


Safe With You

by scrungass, Talax



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Agoraphobia, Depression, Domestic, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recovery, Trans Character, Transphobia, these tags sound a little rough but I promise this is the softest fic I've (co)written to date
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-02-13 06:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrungass/pseuds/scrungass, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talax/pseuds/Talax
Summary: An energetic, homeless young man with a very funny name finds his van can't drive through this storm. The only house around belongs to Robbie Rotten, the burn-out, agoraphobic artist. A story about recovery, about slowing down, and about learning to move again.--An AU stemming from the thought that if Sportacus was in a normal universe, he would definitely live in a van... Plus projection abound!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last summer I told @scrungass about a fic idea I'd been sitting on for a long time and they liked it enough to draw, and then enough to RP with me so it would actually get written :P
> 
> http://newtalax.tumblr.com/post/163223019036/scrungass-newtalaxs-transportation-au-notes

Robbie Rotten was not beginning anything new, nor had he begun anything new for quite some time. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, as he was presently staring at a blank canvas, occasionally lifting his brush to begin painting, and occasionally on some days, his hand would magically make art appear, but he certainly wasn’t _finishing_ anything.

He’d been in this routine for a year? Two years?? Staring at canvases; holding pieces of junk together and rearranging them into meaningless, tasteless forms; avoiding the same requests for interviews and inquisitive curators; cursing the same noisy locals who dared drive their same noisy cars too close to his secluded property; eating the same crappy instant food and neglecting the same miserable house. 

It’s not that he was depressed, waiting for his life to change, waiting for something bring back his inspiration… Well, actually... He was depressed. Wildly so. But he was the kind of depressed that told him “stay sad, stay safe” and “you deserve this”. This was simply the way he was, his core truest self was lazy, useless, tired, restless, alone. Stagnation was easy. Laziness was good. Reclusion was safe. And depression was peace.

Robbie tentatively placed his brush on the canvas, unsteadily dragging it down the empty space. “Paint’s dry.” He stated his observance to himself out loud, as he often did. “How long have I been staring at you?” he asked the canvas.

He glanced at the clock. 5:00. “AM or PM?” he asked as he reached for his expensive-but-effective light-blocking curtains. 

“Jeez. It’s pretty bad out there.” Robbie said. It was hard to see through the flurry of white flakes swirling around his window, but Robbie guessed it was 5:00 PM, but he really couldn’t be sure. He opened the blinds all the way and sat back down in his workspace, turning his chair away from the canvas and watching the snow fall. Snowstorms made being a shut-in seem almost fun. Or at least more natural. It felt like being a kid and finding out school has been canceled. It was peaceful to watch it fall.

Wait. 

What was that blue blur he was catching a glimpse of through the flurry?

...

Why did it look like a person getting closer to his house?

It moved out of his line of vision. Robbie sat back. Could he be hallucinating? He was certain he’d slept recently, so he really shouldn’t be having any insomnia side effects that severe. Maybe he’d really lost track of time and it had been more hours than he realized since his last sleep. That would be a better explanation than “person in a snow storm moving towards house of the mean artist who lives far far outside of town”. 

Robbie looked back at his canvas and noticed that his painting was just like his window. A big white square with a bit of blue. Robbie brought his paintbrush to the canvas and dragged it in the path he’d seen the blue blur travel across his yard. He searched his supply table for sponge, but knocked nearly everything on the ground when he heard it. 

A knock.

Someone was at his house, knocking on his door. Robbie craned his neck to try to look outside, but to no avail. Shit...maybe the person would go away? 

The three loud knocks afterwards that sent the man jumping out of his skin told him otherwise. Fuck! With a groan, he stormed over to the front door, speaking loud enough for the other person to hear him, "I'm not buying anything!"

"No-” The voice called back. I'm not trying to sell you anything...My car broke down and this is the only place I can find. Could I- could you let me in please?"

Robbie's nose scrunched up a little, and he hesitated on putting his hand on the door knob. What if this was some kind of...trick? Maybe this guy was trying to rob him. Or something. 

Yeah, that was probably it. 

He was wary, and finally spoke up again. "Who would be driving out in this weather? Can't you call like...your family or something? Go home."

"I'm not from around here, I was just passing through..." Robbie could hear the strangers teeth chatter through the window. "I didn't know this storm was coming. I'm sorry. I'll be out as soon as the snow stops. I’ll shovel your driveway if you want. I just..." he trailed off a little and said hardly loud enough for Robbie to hear. "I don't have anyone to call. I'm sorry."

Oh. Well. 

That sounded kind of sad, didn't it? 

He sighed and leaned his head against the door to collect his thoughts. Robbie still found himself uneasy about letting a stranger into his home, but...he didn't really have that much to lose, now did he? And he was offering free labor. That was _always_ good.

He opened the door, a rush of cold air felt like waking up from a long dream.

He found himself face-to-face with a shivering, blue-clad man whose nose was running down to meet one of the silliest mustaches he'd ever seen on a person. 

He looked pathetic standing out there. 

"Okay," he relented, "Get in here. It wouldn't be in good conscience to leave out out in this weather."

The stranger’s pout turned into a brilliant smile (well, maybe not that brilliant with his teeth chatter all over the place. "ThankyouthankyouthankyouthisissoniceIcan’tthankyouenough.” He stuck out a hand unsteadily. "I'm Sportacus!"

"Yeah, yeah, get in here," Robbie grabbed his hand, pulling him inside. His mouth twitched up a bit, "Sportacus? Not to be rude to my new guest, but what kind of name is that?"

“It's _my_ name" he answered, as if he was unaware that his response offered zero clarification.

"It was a high school nickname that stuck really hard. I know it's kinda silly." Sportacus added after Robbie appraised him silent for a moment.

"Well. Interesting," Robbie walked over to the desk he had been working at previously, vaguely organizing his art supplies. "I'm Robbie, I guess. Take off your shoes before walking on the carpet, and you can hang your winter stuff in the closet."

Sportacus dropped down to untie his boots. Geez, did he always move with so much… umpf? "Will do, Robbie." As his hands busied themselves with rubbing warmth back into his feet, he examined the space around him. "Not to be rude to my new host, but what's with all the..." He motioned around the front room. "Scrap metal type stuff?"

Robbie scoffed, "What? You've never seen art before?" If he could even call it that. Some of this stuff has been sitting out here unfinished for months. He looked at the previous canvas he was working on and decided to take it down, unhappy with the little progress he'd made anyways.

Sportacus stood in his newly bare feet and walked around one of the forms. "Art." He repeated. "Hey, this must be pretty high brow stuff." 

"Yeah, I guess.I used to be famous at one point or another..." Robbie rubbed his hands together, staring at the scraps around the room before trailing off and looking to his guest. Sportacus had taken off his gloves and scarf but left on his hat and vest. That was a little unusual, but whatever.

It was quiet for an awkward moment before Robbie spoke up again. "Do you want something to eat? I'm sure you're starving after that whole debacle."

Sportacus clutched his stomach and laughed a little awkwardly. "Normally I would try to be polite and say no, but I don't really have much of a choice to refuse hospitality right now..."

Robbie gave the other man the smallest of smiles, leading him into his kitchen. "Take your pick of anything I've got, I won't mind too much."

“Thank you so much." Sportacus said genuinely, but his enthusiasm visibly dropped when he opened the pantry. 

Robbie peaked in, unsure what could have caused a reaction like that. He had plenty of food.

"Do you have anything that isn't this instant stuff?" Sportacus asked as casually as he could manage.

Robbie leaned against a chair, raising an eyebrow. "Anything that isn't instant doesn't last very long, and you can't buy it in bulk on the internet either. So to answer your question simply: No."

Sportacus nodded concedingly. "I can't disagree. It's certainly good for situations like this where you're snowed in. But... aren't you worried you're going to get scurvy or something?"

“Scurvy?” Robbie chuckled a little “What am I? A pirate?”

“You could be if you don’t eat any fruit!” Sportacus moved a sizable number of cans from the pantry to the countertop. “I will make you something healthy for dinner. Or at least, something healthy-ish. I can do all the cooking and cleaning since you are supplying the food and shelter.”

"Eugh. I guess, if you have to. That's one less thing for me to do..." his nose scrunched up a bit, "Just make sure it tastes good, kiddo." Kiddo? Actually, how old was this kid? ...man? "Uh...Sportacus. How old are you?"

Sportacus laughed. "I'm kinda a kiddo. I'm 19." Sportacus procured a can opener in the form of a swiss army knife in his vest pocket. "How old are you?"

"Ah. I'm 22."

Well. Now he had that information. Uh....now what? 

"Um...so where's home for you? I'm guessing you're not from around here."

"Nope. Not around here." Sportacus didn’t look up. He was busy opening cans one by one, running them through water with a strainer. He moved so quickly and he kept tossing the food around in the strainer. It was mesmerizing to Robbie. The guy was making _cooking_ look _fun_. 

"I'm from Iceland originally.” Sportacus spoke after some time, as if he was considering what to say. “I was living in Virginia but I can't go back there. The vans home for now."

"Oh." Robbie twiddled his thumbs, "I'm...sorry to hear that. I apologize if I'm being too pushy." Talking to other people wasn't one of his strong points so he was more than ready to back out of the conversation.

Sportacus looked away from his cooking, locking eyes with Robbie, as if to communicate something deeper. "It’s okay." The phrase hung in the air for a second before the man went back to his food prep. "That's just how it is right now. Haven't really found a reason to settle anywhere yet. But it's cool. Seen a lot of beautiful places. Met a lot of interesting people. You're an artist, you can appreciate that stuff right?" 

"Uh," not really, but did he want to say that? 'Hi I'm a super socially awkward artist who's too depressed to make anything new and I’m too afraid to leave my own home,' didn't sound very good to tell someone he just met. Not good at _all_. "Yeah?" he shrugged, voice raising at the end to form more of a question. "I guess?"

Sportacus ran his hand through the air dismissively at his own ideas. "You used to be famous you said? You ever been in a museum?"

"Well I've been in a few galleries. I had one of my own, for a time. I was probably most successful when I was...19, actually." He looked a little sheepish, trying to hide how ashamed he felt now. He was nothing compared to his success a few years ago.

Sportacus stopped what he was doing. "Wow! That's really amazing! To be so successful at such a young age. I can't imagine. You must be so proud"

"Um...yeah? I guess so..." Robbie scratched at his cheek, shoulders slumping. "I don't know. I'm not quite so successful anymore." The disappointment Robbie was radiating was surely palpable. 

"Oh. I'm sorry. It's been a tough three years huh?" Sportacus poured broth into a bowl Robbie only ever used for baking. "Tough few years for me too."

"Yeah... you could say that...." Robbie heaved a heavy sigh and sat down in the chair he'd been leaning on. He rubbed at his itchy, tired eyes that had been staring at an uncooperative canvas for far too long. "Well, Sportacus, I dare say that you're the first real person I've held a conversation with for a while."

"Yeah. Same, actually." Sportacus breathed deeply and turned around, leaning back on the counter resting his hands on the island between them.

“As long as you're not a terrible house guest, I imagine you can stay here as long as you need to.” He said with certainty.

"Thank you... For the offer and for the compliment." He seemed to be mulling over the genuineness behind the offer for a long moment. “I won't wear out my welcome don't worry. Your house will be better for having me in it, I hope."

Robbie smiled a little, "Yeah? I'd believe that. I haven't cleaned much in a while so I guess there's a lot for you to do, if you like to keep busy."

"Yeah! I love that kind of thing." Sportacus beamed. "Say I noticed you have tequila hiding in the back of your fridge. You don't happen to have any lime or lime juice? This soup needs a little something extra."

"Oh! Yeah, uh, it should be in the back of the fridge. I can't promise that it's not expired though..." he gestured vaguely at the refrigerator.

Sportacus dug around in his fridge. "Oh there it is!" He measured some out. "I promise I'm not just putting this in here because I'm worried you have scurvy. Although I am"

"Listen, I'm preeeetty sure I would know if I had some kind of disease like that. Maybe." Robbie snorted, "No need to worry about me."

"Okay but you could _get_ scurvy! It happens to college students all the time. Not that I would know what college students get up to." He laughed to himself as he stirred a little life to the pot. 

"Okay though. No more worrying." He started collecting the dishes he had used to clean.

"Yep. That's a rule. No worrying about me. Cause I'm always fine. And...another rule? Don't be loud. Or rowdy. Uh..." he tapped his chin, trying to think of any more rules. "And I'm not really big on trying new foods, either."

"Yes, sir" Sportacus saluted playfully. "It's kinda hard to make you try new foods with six feet of snow and who knows how many miles between us and the nearest store.” Sportacus thought for a second. "Wait. I'm doing that right now aren't I... Wow, I’m sorry. I won't be offended if you don't want to eat it."

"Well I'm familiar with all the food I own already, so maybe it won't be too bad to try those foods...together? In a different...sort of...concoction." Robbie paused, "I haven't eaten much today." He paused again. That was kind of an exaggeration wasn’t it? Had he eaten at all? That depended on if a day was the last time he went to sleep, or if it meant the calendar day.

"I'll try it."

Sportacus didn’t contain his enthusiastic reaction very well. He seemed to scale it back a bit before he replied. "I hope you like it. Is it okay if I open some tortilla chips for this? I need them for the recipe, and you can snack on them in the meantime to stimulate your appetite!"

"Oh! Uh, sure!" Robbie wet his lips, and he got up from the table to also grab a soda from the fridge. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Just water. Is the tap water safe around here?"

"Oh, yeah, it's totally fine. Help yourself." He said as he sat back down with the soda and the open bag of chips, twisting the cap open with a satisfying fizz before taking a drink.

Sportacus dried the last dish and put it back where it had come from. Geez, the guy wasn’t kidding about being useful for cleaning. 

"It has to heat a bit longer to get all those good flavors mixed up." Sportacus sat down next to Robbie and examined a canvas that was sitting next to them. "Wow," he mumbled. "I like this one. Can you explain it to me?" He hovered his hand over the paint.

"Oh...that old thing?" He bit the tip of his bottle in thought, "There wasn't really any 'deep meaning' behind it, if that's what you were expecting. I hardly consider it finished, anyways."

Sportacus examined it again, holding it between them. "It doesn't need to be deep. I like the colors and all that. But isn't art about feelings? I want to know what this one is _feeling_." 

"Oh...well...if you absolutely have to know...." he pushed his bottle around, "It's, uh, it's about depression."

Sportacus titled the painting diagonally and gave it a slightly more intensive look over. "I can definitely see that." He put it to the side and straightened his vest a little. "Sorry for prying. Art is pretty personal."

"Yeah, it is. I haven't been able to make much of it lately, though..." Before either of them could dwell on that, Robbie cleared his throat. "So, why don't you take off your vest? You can make yourself at home."

"Oh no, it's nothing like that. The vest makes me feel safer." He stuck his hands deep into the pockets and hugged it to him a little tighter. "Plus I got all kinds of cool things in here." He pulled out a piece of paper and began unfolding it, spreading it out on the clear space of the table. "I keep track of all the places I've been." 

The map wasn't that impressive in quality; it was just a road map. It was marked with many different colors and symbols all over the place and its ink was faded and worn, scotch tape shining up random folds for structural integrity. 

"We're here now right?" Sportacus pointed to the place on the map.

Robbie leaned forward a little to get a better look at the place Sportacus was pointing out. "Yep. You're here in good ol' Lazytown...not too many residents, so it's nice and quiet."

"Are you serious?" Sportacus looked at the map again. "This place is called Lazytown? That's wild. Is everyone lazy here?"

"Thankfully, it lives up to its name. You won't really find kids running and jumping and screaming around here. Not much crime. Or partying. It's pretty perfect."

"I guess I'll be the least lazy man in Lazytown for a bit. I can deal with that." 

"Oh great. The laziest man in town and the least laziest man in town are going to be living together. How did it come to this?" He actually chuckled a bit at that, and he leaned back in the chair.

Sportacus laughed too before he got up to check on his soup. "Have you lived here long?" He asked casually.

"I've been here my whole life, and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon."

"Any family? It seems like you live in this whole house by yourself."

"Yeah. They moved out to Busy City a few years ago, but I wanted to stay here. I'm not really want for money and I still have earnings from my gallery shows, so I do pretty well in this house alone. It's like a big studio, now."

"Wow. That's pretty cool. I hope you still have a couch for me to sleep on in his big studio," Sportacus took a sip of the soup. "Mmmm, this is definitely ready."

"The couch is MY place to sleep. You can have the actual bed," he smiled a bit and looked up.

"What? That's so mixed up." Sportacus laughed as he spooned out equal portions of soup into the only two bowls he could find. Sportacus put the soup down at the table. 

"It smells pretty good.” Robbie admitted at the bowl before him.

"You're supposed to crush up the chips and put them in the soup now. It's kinda fun.” He grabbed a handful of chips and waited expectantly for Robbie to do the same.

Robbie mimicked the motion, crushing the chips up into like flakes in the soup. It seemed dumb, but he hoped he was doing this right. God, he hadn't eaten anything remotely like a real meal in a long time. Takeout didn't really count. "Well...here goes." He took his spoon and dipped it into the bowl, blowing on it before sticking it into his mouth. 

Amazingly enough, it didn't taste awful to him. He laughed a little.

"If you keep making food like this, I might never let you leave."

Sportacus beamed back at Robbie, letting out a laugh, releasing a tension deeper than it should have. "Yay!" He managed to say before putting a spoonful in his mouth. The man looked at his soup as if it was blessed, savoring spoonful after spoonful slowly. It seemed even slower compared to how quickly he’d moved around will preparing the soup. "Thank you for the food. And for feeding my ego."

"Don't mention it." Robbie took another bite, his smile sticking on his face as he looked at the other man. He was quite handsome, really. Right then and there, he decided he didn't want to see anything but a smile on this stranger's face. Nothing else seemed quite as fitting. 

"Thank _you_ for making the food."

"It was my pleasure," Sportacus looked up from his soup and noticed Robbie staring at him. It was such a pleasant stare, both smiling and taking each other in. "Eating hot soup in a heated house and having such nice company... It's so much better than driving through this storm. So safe... I can feel my soul thawing off or something..."

Robbie chuckled, blowing on his soup, "That's an interesting way to put it, but it oddly makes sense. I'm sure any other house in this town would've taken you in, though."

"You'd be surprised," Sportacus drank from his bowl directly. "Either way, I'm glad it was your house my van decided to poop out in front of. Even if your driveway is super long."

"Hopefully, it'll be a good experience for both of us, then. Cheers." He raised his soda bottle up slightly in a toast. He felt the weight of it suddenly. The weight of having another human person to share his company with. There was a _person_ in his _home_. He was having a normal conversation with a person and he didn’t feel any closer to panic than he had before Sportacus got there. He might even be _less_ panicked in this stranger’s presence. 

They clinked their soda bottle and mug of water together. “To warm soup and warm souls,” Robbie said.

“To new friends.”


	2. Chapter 2

They spent their dinner in companionable silence. Well, it was pretty companionable but Robbie still felt awkward. Sportacus looked quite content as he watched the snow falling outside and eating his soup like it was sacred.

"This weather reminds me of warm fires,” Sportacus broke the silence. “I used to love to sit by the fire and watch the snow falling as a kid. It’s such a good feeling." 

“What was that?” Robbie asked as Sportacus pulled him back to reality.

"I was thinking about fires. Do you have a fireplace, Robbie?"

\--

"Ah, here we go-" 

Robbie walked into the family room holding a stack of old, failed attempts at art that had never seen the light of day. This room was in a similar state as the foyer, a few odd sculptures and canvases around, but it was easy enough to move them to the sides of the room to clear the way for sitting at the fire. His couch and loveseat and a rug were all upholstered with a bright orange shag that was a little on the eccentric side. The fur was worn at places, but very soft and surprisingly clean.

Robbie handed Sportacus his pile of detested sketches. "You can use these. They're completely unimportant."

"Great!" Sportacus's voice echoed from inside the fireplace. He had stacked the firewood in a way that reminded Robbie of toy lincoln logs, with a little empty hearth in the center. Sportacus grabbed a handful of the kindling with one hand and stuffed it into the empty hearth. He pulled a lighter out of his vest and clicked it on, but suddenly moved the flame away.

"Robbie?" Sportacus questioned. "This is your art," he examined the sketches in his hands.

"Yeah? I said it was nothing important." Robbie shrugged his shoulders, "I would've just thrown it away later anyways. Burn it up."

Sportacus looked unsure. "If you say so... But _you_ light them, alright? Maybe it'll be cathartic or something," Sportacus inched to the side so Robbie would have room to lean on the brick next to him.

"Oh, hell yeah." Robbie took the lighter and made an attempt at igniting the fire. “Shit,” he mumbled as he messed up the first go. He couldn’t quite remember how to use a lighter. He had to try a couple times before he actually got the flame to start, setting his old art ablaze. "Yes! Burn!!"

Sportacus leaned back and nudged Robbie a little, laughing as he took the lighter back from Robbie's hand. "We've got a regular pyromaniac here. You almost make me wish I had stuff to burn too."

Robbie laughed a little, the sound unfamiliar on his lips, sitting back with the remaining stack of old art. "God, I've just been wanting to get rid of this shit for a while. I never thought of burning them, though I guess I never had the energy to."

"It's good to clean out stuff. Good for your energy and productivity. I mean that's more for like old clothes and knickknacks but I guess it's true for art too. Even if this seems like your burning stuff that would be worth like a jillion dollars in an auction."

"Nah. None of this is worth selling. It's all garbage." Robbie waved his hand dismissively, "No one would want this crap. _I_ certainly don't want this crap."

“But this one…” Sportacus had been looking at one paper for a while; he held it up for Robbie to see. "I really like it." It was a sketch of Robbie's recognizable visage, lipstick smeared on and below his lips. It was obviously unfinished, lots of circles formed Robbie's face. "It's a self portrait right? If you don't want it, could I keep it?"

Robbie visibly cringed at that piece, crossing both his arms and legs. "That one? Why in the world would you want THAT one, of all things?"

Sportacus turned the sketch back to himself. "It's you! And you look so good made up like that. Very attractive..." he trailed off a little, “A-and I love all these dark bits," he pointed to the shading. "I just like it."

Robbie felt his cheeks go red, and his nose twitch as he looked off to the side. "Um. Yes. W-well. I guess if you like it so much, you can keep it. If that's what you want."

Sportacus flattened the piece of paper out and carefully folded it along the crease that was already present in the sketch. "Thank you," he stuck it on the inside pocket of his vest and patted it down. "Okay, continue your burning. I'm content." he beckoned to the pile.

"U-uh....sure..." Robbie quickly turned his head back towards the pile of sketches, and started balling them up and throwing them into the fire. His mind was absolutely reeling now, because, why of _all_ the terrible sketches, this kid wanted one of _him_? He was probably overthinking it. He was probably _very_ overthinking it, to the point he felt a little dizzy.

"What a day..." he mumbled, throwing the last balled up sketch into the fire.

"Yeah," Sportacus stretched and fell easily onto the shag rug. "Yeah seriously. I'm beat,” he breathed out. "Really tired."

“So, um,” Sportacus sat back up and held his hands to the fire, seeming to choose his words carefully before speaking again, "I'm sleeping on the couch right? You were joking earlier."

"No? I wasn't joking." Robbie turned to look at his guest, "I sleep on the couch. I hardly ever use my own bed, so you can have the bedroom to yourself. I can show you if you like."

Sportacus gave him a puzzled look. "If you're just trying to be nice and give the homeless guy a bed I'm gonna be real upset. But okay."

"My bed gives me nightmares, so I don't sleep there anymore. I'm not just trying to be nice, I promise," he chuckled a little, looking back at the fire.

That answer was sufficient enough for Sportacus. "I trust you then," Sportacus looked over to Robbie. "I want to watch the fire a bit longer.” 

"That's fine." Robbie said quietly. 

Sportacus hugged his shoulders and breathed in the smokey smell. He watched the wood pop and shift, zoning out, seemingly oblivious of Robbie’s continued presence behind him. Robbie stared at Sportacus for another moment, before deciding to go upstairs and set up the bed for his guest. He brushed his teeth and drank some water, and used the bathroom before heading back downstairs to sit on his couch and enjoy the fire himself.

Sportacus turned around when he heard Robbie's weight dropping to the couch. He looked at him for a moment, and appreciated that neither of them were doing anything besides simply existing. 

"Okay, I know it's only 8 but I can't keep my eyes open any longer," he mumbled, leaning his head against the couch and besides Robbie's lap.

"I think it's about time for me to clock out too," Robbie smiled down at Sportacus, "I'll show you to the bedroom, then." He pushed himself off the couch and led his guest up the stairs to his room. The room itself was fairly simple, and the bed followed the trend of orange furniture.

Sportacus dropped down on top of the bed, fully clothed and on top of the blankets and mumbled something like, "sooooo soft," into the pillow and then added, "goodnight, thank you,” a little more audibly.

Robbie smiled a little, "the bathroom is across the hall. You can shower when you wake up if you want... Goodnight." 

Robbie descended the stairs, back to the family room so he could watch the fire die out. He expected his paranoia to get the best of him, but this guest didn't seem like the murdering type, to say the least.

And...if he was… then that was that. 

He snuggled himself up against his orange couch, pulling a purple blanket over himself as he stared into the slowly dimming fire, until he found himself in a calm enough state of mind to sleep.

\--

Disoriented beyond measure, Sportacus awoke feeling as if he’d been asleep for years. It was dark and nothing was familiar, but he felt so relaxed. He almost wanted to drift off back to sleep, but... he scanned the room for a clock. Did that say... 9:30? He stumbled out of bed and found a curtain, drawing it aside, finding himself suddenly blinded by the sun shining against the whitened landscape.

He was at Robbie's house. Robbie's bedroom. Robbie must use light canceling blinds. God, when was the last time he'd slept that late?

He threw on his clothes back on and stumbled downstairs, shoulders wrapped in a throw blanket.

Robbie was sitting on a stool in front of a messy canvas. The piece didn't look finished, or even like something at all. The man himself was slumped over, back turned to the stairwell with a paintbrush in hand. His breathing was too even to be awake, and it was soon apparent that he had fallen asleep while working. His coffee cup and empty, syrup coated plate were sitting forgotten on the floor beside him.

It looked like Sportacus wasn’t the only one sleeping in.

Sportacus smiled a little bit at his discovery. But Robbie didn't look all together comfortable sleeping like that. Trying his best not to wake him, Sportacus laid the blanket from his own shoulders over the man and picked up his dishes. Wow, that was _a lot_ of syrup. He guessed it was better that it was still on the plate rather than inside his host, clogging his arteries. Although there was probably plenty syrup already in him. 

Sportacus admired the formless colors on the canvas in front of him for a moment and scooted off to the kitchen to clean Robbie's dish before the syrup dried on any harder.

A couple hours later, Robbie wandered into the kitchen in search of his guest. Holding the blanket tightly around his shoulders his voice was crackly from sleep. "Sportacus?"

Sportacus straightened himself out from his deep calf stretch. "Good morning!" He hopped up from his place on the family room floor and went into a slow lunge, alternating from leg to leg. "How did you sleep?"

Robbie squinted his eyes at Sportacus' stretching before he actually looked up at the young man's face. "Oh. I slept...okay, I suppose." He tightened the blanket around himself. “Did you clean?”

“Yeah just a little. I just wiped off the counter and put away the dishes from last night. And cleaned off the oven and microwave. And a couple other small things.”

“Oh. Well it looks great. Thank you, Sportacus…”

Sportacus smiled as he finished his last stretch. “No problem Robbie. I was about to start shoveling. The snow seems to have paused so I want to clear some while I can.”

Robbie adjusted the blanket on his shoulders, snuggling it closer to him. "Make sure you keep warm while shoveling out there. Okay?”

"I will be sure to do that. Shoveling is good cardio so the real challenge is keeping cool." Sportacus straightened himself out to his full 5'7" height, almost on level with Robbie when he was slouching like that. 

"Uh-huh...." Robbie looked around for a moment, "I'm, uh, gonna take a shower? And I can start another fire so you can warm up when you finish."

"That sounds really nice!" Sportacus headed to the front door. "See you later!"

\--

Sportacus hadn't shoveled more snow than a parking space worth for his van in a couple years now, but he remembered, lift with your knees, don't throw the snow into the wind, go for wider than you think you need, all the good stuff. The snow was a good two feet deep, so Sportacus had to go in layers or he'd really throw out his back. 

After a bit of shoveling, he was hot and he threw his vest off, then his sweater came off and he was in just his flannel with sleeves rolled up nearly to his biceps.

Sportacus took a second to breath and laid back on the compact snow. It had started snowing again without Sportacus realizing it. It felt so good on his heated skin. After a moment the chill set in and he got back up. He wouldn't be able to get all the way to the street but the prospect of shoveling twice as much of that icy snow at the bottom near the street was enough to urge him forward. 

But... he also noticed smoke was twisting out of the chimney. It was so inviting... Sportacus resolved he'd work a little faster to get inside quicker.

"Hey Sportacus!" Robbie called out suddenly at the door, "do you like hot chocolate? I could make you some!"

Sportacus jumped. The snow he was trying to throw over his shoulder fell directly on his head and shoulders. "Oh geez," he laughed at himself. "I'm not a big sugar guy. If you have tea that would be wonderful."

A silly little smile made its way to Robbie's face when the snow fell on his guest, and he backed away into the house a little bit. "I don't drink tea much, but I'll see what I can find."

"If you don't have any, I could also just drink hot milk!" Sportacus called.

"Oh! Well...okay!" Robbie shrugged and slunk back into his kitchen and Sportacus got back to shoveling.

Sportacus smacked himself on the head for being so jumpy. And weird! Warm milk? That was not something normally people asked for… Oh well, Robbie didn’t seem to judge him that much. Sportacus was never self conscious about being weird but something about Robbie… Robbie was just...important. Sportacus tried to focus on the movement of shoveling and forget about that train of thought.

Sportacus tossed what he determined to be his last shovel of snow for the day. He knew when he was beat, and this driveway had beat him. He _really_ needed to get to his van though. Just to grab some things he needed. So he had made a tiny path to the road and walked the five minutes or so it had been to where his van had broken down. 

Sportacus chipped away at the snow engulfing the van and slid his way into the passenger seat. He just grabbed some essentials: a couple changes of clothing, some toiletries, the perishable foods, etc. He packed it all in a gym bag and headed back to Robbie's.

Their was already a sizeable dusting where he'd cleared a path, but he didn't let that bother him. He'd done good work today. "Hey Robbie," Sportacus called as he opened the door, "I'm back inside."

Robbie poked his head out from the kitchen, "Oh, good! I was beginning to think you had frozen to death." He pushed back his hair a little with a smile, "I have that warm milk ready for you. I don't have tea."

Robbie looked clean and soft. His hair looked so good brushed neatly like that. Sportacus had to look away for a second, focusing on taking off his boots. "Thank you. I was starting to get cold,” he mumbled.

Sportacus entered the kitchen and poured the milk into the mug Robbie had set out for him. He plopped down by the fire with a satisfied hum, fiddling with the handle of the bag he brought in. "This is such a treat, thank you."

"Of course. Everything seems so much cleaner..." Robbie sat in his recliner with another mug of his sugary, caffeinated concoction across from Sportacus, sipping slowly.

"I used to drink warm milk all the time when I was little. I never could get to sleep. I had so much energy I didn't know how to turn it off," Sportacus reminisced with his hands rubbing against the porcelain of the mug.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised by that." Robbie smirked and sipped his drink, "I just have a hard time getting to sleep in general. It's been like that for a while."

"Sleeping on the couch probably doesn't help." Sportacus held up his hands in a small surrender, "I know though, nightmares." He shook his head and adjusted his beanie, "man that double sucks."

"The couch is a lot more comfortable, in my opinion," Robbie chuckled, "I think my insomnia was worse when I actually did sleep in my bed. But it's hard to remember anymore. It doesn't really matter." 

Sportacus twisted his face up in confusion. "That doesn't seem possible. Your bed was impossibly comfy. I need data." He left his mug and bag on the carpet and laid down on the couch, squirming a little to get settled. “It is pretty comfortable,” Sportacus admitted. "It makes it hard to want to get back up."

"Exactly the point!” Robbie said, sitting up proudly. “Some days I spend all day on the couch, and I only get up if I absolutely have to use the bathroom." He seemed to flinch at his own words.

"Wow I think I'd explode if I did that. Doesn't it hurt?"

"I mean. Yeah." Robbie scratched his head, "Uh. New topic." He shifted his eyes away from Sportacus.

"Fair enough." Sportacus wiggled his toes in his socks. He had to think for a second, "um... well... What's your favorite fruit?"

Robbie's face scrunched up. "Uh...I don't...eat fruit? Often?" He sipped his drink, "um...I'm not really… _into _fruit? But I guess I don't mind chocolate covered strawberries. Those are decent."__

"Hmm," Sportacus thought. "They _are_ decent." Sportacus started to feel the depth of difference between them. Was this going to be a problem for them? Being so different? Did that kinda stuff matter? "Okay. Your turn. Ask me something."

"I guess...uh..." he fumbled with his words. Social interaction sure could be hard. "What...do you do for fun? Like when you're not driving around and stuff."

__Sportacus thought for a second. "Well I used to play a lot of sports for fun. But now I don't really have much for equipment and obviously no teams. I can still do yoga every morning and I love to jog in new places... I like sunrises and making friends... I guess I just like new experiences in general.”_ _

__"God, we really are complete opposites, aren't we?" Robbie chuckled softly, almost a little awkwardly. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his mug. "I guess I don't...really go out. At all. Anymore."_ _

__"We're pretty different but that's okay isn't it? We're the same where it counts..." Sportacus wasn't even sure what he meant by that, but he felt right. "When I get my van fixed I'll take you somewhere nice. I'm sure I can find something fun for you," Sportacus mused._ _

__"O-oh, uh. You don't have to do that. You really don't." Robbie shook his head a little, "I don't go out because I don't want to go out. That's why I buy my groceries online instead of going to the store."_ _

__"I'm not talking about stuff like getting groceries... I'm talking about like, _doing_ something," he gestured widely. "I'm not going to push you though. We don't even need to go somewhere with people. Just you and me, it'll be nice."_ _

__For some reason, that had Robbie blushing, and he turned his head away to hide his glowing cheeks. "I don't know. We'll see."_ _

__Sportacus quickly looked down to his own hands but felt his face burn a little too. Was he implying something he didn't mean to imply? Did he actually mean to imply that? "Yeah, I mean, my van is buried under like three feet of snow so like- the future- we'll see-"_ _

__"Y-yeah....maybe...I'll uh- change my mind by then." He scratched his cheek, looking down at his mug. His drink was a bit cold now. "Not to pry, but...how do you pay for gas? And stuff?"_ _

__"It's alright. I worked although high school. Weekends and nights and stuff whenever I wasn't at practice. I ended up being so busy I never spent any money. So I've been kinda stretching that out. Pick up odd jobs here and there, of course, but mostly just a lot of savings." Sportacus picked his mug back up and hugged his arms over his knees, speaking into the cavern of the mug "I'm kinda, I'm kinda really close to being broke right now though. I gotta figure something out soon."_ _

__Robbie rubbed his chin, "Well... I suppose if you do a really good job cleaning.... I could pay you for your services," he mused. "That's only if you do a REALLY good job, though." He smiled a little at the end of his sentence, to show he already had little doubts about that._ _

__"Yeah?" Sportacus asked. "I can't say no to that." Sportacus thought and then added, "at least for awhile."_ _

__"Well if I don't pay you, then you might not be able to get too far if you're almost broke. I'm sure you probably want to get out as soon as possible," he chuckled awkwardly._ _

__"It's not like that," Sportacus shook his head. "You just learn to be careful about imposing. I don't want you to think you're stuck with me. I know how hard that can get... I _want_ to be here." Sportacus smiled and stood up, holding his hand out, “you done with that drink?"_ _

__Robbie found himself silent for a moment, processing what Sportacus had said. "Huh? Oh....uh, yeah. I'm done with this." He handed his mug off to his guest._ _

__Sportacus took the mug quickly and headed to the sink. It kinda felt like Robbie was going to put his hand in his. Wow, that would be kinda a nice feeling. Kinda really nice._ _

__He tried to forget about it. "I got into my van and brought some stuff in so I think I'll hit the shower and change my clothes."_ _

__"Oh, yeah. Help yourself." Robbie offered an awkward smile, his eyes shifting. "I'll...uh. Be in the foyer, I guess?"_ _

__"Gonna be painting?" Sportacus asked drying his hands and turning back to his host._ _

__"Well...I'm going to be trying, at least." With a sigh, Robbie pushed himself up from the couch and headed into the foyer._ _

__Sportacus grabbed his bag and passed by Robbie, who was intently examining one of his piles of scraps. He went to the bathroom Robbie had showed him the night before. It was clean enough, which made sense if Robbie didn't really use the upstairs. He'd probably still clean it for good measure._ _

__The hot water felt amazing. It was hard water, and it had the unmistakable sweetness of well water. Sportacus liked that about remote towns like this one. Such nice water. If Robbie was serious about letting him stay he could get some laundry done and give his van a good cleaning out. Sportacus wondered how his van would look parked in the driveway, snow melting away a little, drinking more hot milk, sitting with Robbie, holding Robbie’s hand…_ _

__Nope, no, _not_ that last part. He was here to work, to earn a little money and pass through. That was all. Then he’d keep moving when he sensed his welcome was wearing a little thin. That was how he’d been doing it for more than a year now. And that was good enough. He was alive, wasn’t he? What more could he ask for?_ _


	3. Chapter 3

Robbie threw away his scrap metal after working with it for a half hour. Nothing was turning out well. He really wasn’t inspired by it in the least, so he turned back to his canvas. He didn't even have anything in mind, no goal for what he wanted to paint. He sighed and threw on some acrylics, the color blue sticking out in his mind. He started painting a vague form. Something nice, someone lounging, and ah- Robbie realized the figure looked vaguely like Sportacus. Oh. Too late. That was alright. He’d paint Sportacus, then.

After a bit of work, he decided to finish the piece. It wasn't turning out awful, and afterall, it would be waste to not utilize his guest as a subject while he had the chance. But Robbie wanted to paint his muse hatless. What did Sportacus’s hair look like anyway?

Robbie heard the creak of the stairs, his head perked up slightly, "Sportacus, can you...?" 

Oh. Light, curly hair clung to Sportacus’s shower-red face, water dripping from the ends onto his sweatshirt. Robbie’s mouth went dry. 

"Nevermind," he mumbled quickly and went back to work.

“Hmm? Did you need something?" Sportacus asked.

"Uh, no. It's already taken care of," Robbie glanced up at Sportacus quickly before looking back down at his painting in deep concentration.

"Okay!" Sportacus said pleasantly as he finished his descent and moved to kitchen. "Hey,” Sportacus called from the kitchen. “I'm heating up some leftover soup, do you want me to bring you some?" He called to the man down the hall.

"Uh," Robbie blinked, coming out of a focused daze, "Yeah, actually. That'd be a good idea."

Robbie listened as Sportacus made a little noise in the kitchen. He walked passed Robbie with a smile on his way back upstairs. Sportacus brought back down a stockpile of fruit in his arms. Robbie figured he must have gotten those from his van earlier.

At the bottom of the stairs, an apple slipped from his hands. Sportacus dove to catch it and nearly dropped two more. He laughed at his own clumsiness and winked to Robbie on his way back to the kitchen.

Robbie felt a wave of heat shoot through his body and into his cheeks when the other man winked at him, catching Sportacus’s eyes for a brief moment. He started working more intently, smiling to himself a little as he heard the sounds of Sportacus moving around in the kitchen. 

Without realizing it, he'd missed the company of other people. Now that he had someone around, the feeling made itself known. Maybe Robbie didn’t hate people as much as he remembered hating them.

He thanked whatever god was out there for making it snow so bad that some homeless kid popped up at his door.

\--

In the kitchen, Sportacus admired the bowl of fruit he’d set out and the cleanly wiped fridge. He'd have to clean out the fridge too. There was a good amount of old take out food and expired sauces and stuff. But he was not about to start throwing away Robbie's food yet. He’d learned that not everyone threw away food that had reached its expiration and doing so for someone was a boot-worthy crime.

Sportacus checked on the soup and found it was hot enough for his taste. He scooped it into bowls and crushed some chips into them. Robbie had seemed so focused on his painting. For one, he was awake, actually moving his paintbrush. Sportacus had barely caught his gaze when he tripped. Maybe he should let Robbie paint instead of distracting him. He hadn’t known Robbie for long, but he had made it pretty clear that he was struggling with his occupation. The way Robbie was painting now, with such determination… Well, Sportacus could feel it was important.

Sportacus brought two bowls into Robbie’s study, placing one on the side table next to Robbie. "Whenever you're ready. I'll leave you be,” he said quietly.

Sportacus picked a bench next to the stairs that had enough space to sit cross legged on. He sipped his soup and tried not to stare as he watched as Robbie apply his paint stroke by stroke. He liked to be in the same room as Robbie. As much as Sportacus worried about imposing, Robbie really seemed happy with his presence. Sportacus hadn't felt a connection like that since he'd left home. He was always too mile-a-minute to sit still and enjoy anyone’s company. He couldn't recall if he'd ever sat in such a companionable silence.

And every once in a while, Robbie would glance up at Sportacus. Sometimes they would lock eyes, and the artist would quickly return his gaze to the painting. It made Sportacus feel even warmer.

Robbie hadn't touched his soup, which had grown cold, but his cheeks were red, as if a bit flustered. "Well...S-Sportacus,” he sat up a bit straighter. “Would you like to be the first to see the first completed Robbie Rotten original in three years?"

"What? You’re kidding? Completed?" Sportacus got up quickly. "Yeah, let's see it!"

Robbie glanced down nervously at his painting before taking a deep breath.“It’s a half-body traditional contrapposto. Pretty simple, but it’s _finished_ and that’s… really something.” He turned the canvas around to show Sportacus. 

"Wow, that's-" Sportacus felt himself fall gently back onto the bench. That unmistakable nose and curls. He was definitely looking at himself. But he looked so _gorgeous_ and _naked_ and _flat_. The art style was messy and loose but he looked like a… like a Greek god. Did that mean… Was Robbie into him? Was this just an artist thing? He felt himself turning red. "I-is that how you see me?"

"Uh...I-I mean...." Robbie turned red himself, and he turned the canvas back around. "I-I guess? I mean? Is it okay?"

Sportacus put a hand on his face in attempt to cool it a little. “It's beautiful. I just- if you saw me naked I think you'd see you took some uh- artistic liberties with this one." Oh god, was he saying too much?

"O-oh...? Well..." He looked back down at his painting again, "I-I'm sure that....even without my ‘artistic liberties’... I’m sure you look good."

"Oh, thank you? I mean- um-" Sportacus could not believe how incredibly stupid he'd been to send them down this line of conversation. "Forget it. Weird conversation. It looks really good and I'm super honored to be a subject for someone so talented- for you... And I’m glad to see how you see me."

Robbie turned an incredibly bright red, and he smiled at his own work. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to calm down immensely. "I'm just amazed that I was actually able to finish something."

Sportacus got back up and walked to Robbie as he spoke."I'm proud of you too... That's so awesome. We should celebrate!" Sportacus elbowed him supportively.

Robbie smiled awkwardly, but he was definitely genuinely happy. "I-I suppose we should! Ah...but...how?"

"Well we can't go out. For a lot of reasons," Sportacus thought for a moment. "You have a cake mix, I can make you that."

Robbie blinked and smiled, sitting up a bit more. "Cake? I'm always up for cake. Hell yeah!"

"Good!" Sportacus said. He wasn't into cake himself, but judging by Robbie's supply, Robbie was _very_ into it. 

Robbie got up with a bit of spring to his step and headed to the kitchen.

He looked around, trying to determine what was making it look different. His eyes finally settled on the fridge. "Oh! Holy shit, my fridge is so clean now. Thank you, Sportacus."

"Yeah, I'm glad you noticed!" Sportacus opened the clean white handle and took out some eggs. “Now, get your cake mix. Whichever one you feel like.”

"Oh man. Red velvet? Chocolate? Red velvet AND chocolate?" He opened his cupboard and examined his options. "Ohhh," he grabbed a box, smiling wide, "Devil's Food."

"What's that?" Sportacus asked.

"It's a layered chocolate cake that's sooo much richer than normal chocolate cake," Robbie smiled to himself, "It’s one of my all-time absolute favorites."

"Sounds like it’s a good choice then!" Sportacus took the box from Robbie and examined the instructions on the back. "As much as I like cooking I never do any baking. It's too _exact_ for me.” Sportacus handed the box to Robbie. "Just tell me what to stir and I'll stir it.”

"Alright," Robbie smiled and looked at the box for a moment, "We gotta mix the wet ingredients together first. Eggs, melted butter, etc...." 

Robbie gave the exact measurements, and then after they mixed together the dry ingredients as well, he instructed to stir the two mixes together. Sportacus really had no idea what was going on, but Robbie seemed to be a cake expert. Sportacus held the bowl carefully as Robbie scraped the batter into the pan, making sure it was even. Sportacus took the spatula to scrape the rest of it out. "Do you want to lick it?"

" _Of course_ I want to lick it," Robbie scoffed, and he took the spatula from Sportacus, licking the batter off of it as he placed the pan carefully into the oven. He was so intent on his task he didn’t notice the bit of batter he’d rubbed on his cheek. 

"Oh!" Moving on instinct, Sportacus licked his index finger and wiped a little off Robbie's cheek. His hand lingered for a second when he realized he didn't really want to lick the cake batter himself so he tried to, kinda, rub the batter against Robbie's lower lip. His finger lingered again when he suddenly came to him senses about how fucking weird he was being, but it was far, far too late for that.

Robbie went completely stiff, and his face became redder than a tomato. His breath hitched, and he backed up slightly before licking his lower lip, turning away. "U-uhh...then… w-we'll just bake this for 45 minutes..." his hand was shaking slightly as he turned on the timer.

"45 minutes? Okay…” Sportacus tried to process his thoughts a little. He was definitely flirting. Even if he was being stupid and running on instinct alone, his instinct seemed to be to flirt with this very hot, very generous, tentatively rich, and _probably_ gay man. “Um... Drinks?"

"O-oh! Uh....right! Right....." Robbie seemed very distracted, and he opened up the fridge, taking count of what he had inside. "I have tequila, hard cider, non-hard cider, pop...”

Before Sportacus could ask for the hardest liquor available, he reminded himself he didn't drink all that often and Robbie, as much as he liked him, was still a bit of a stranger. "Let's start with that non-alcoholic cider."

Sportacus sat himself down at the counter and took the bottle Robbie handed him, examining the label. "I thought you hated fruit, Mr. Rotten.'"

"Listen. It's not like cider is natural or anything. Good enough for my tastes." Robbie popped open the lids of both drinks. He tilting his head back and took a long hard gulp.

Sportacus rested his face against the cool of the counter. "So is ‘Rotten’ a real last name or is it like a catchy artist name?"

Robbie bit at the rim of his bottle with a bit of a smile, "It's actually my last name. Pretty silly, huh?"

"Yes. Almost as silly as Sportacus,” he sat back up and smiled.

"Very true," Robbie snorted, "maybe being silly fits us."

"Yeah! Maybe that why I like you so much. Or-" 

Sportacus wanted to shut himself up so bad. Why did Robbie’s presence make him feel so stupid? Even more stupid than usual. "I mean-you know, why we just seem to get along well."

Robbie hid his face behind his bottle, but Sportacus could clearly see a prominent blush tinting Robbie’s face as he took another long sip. "Y-yeah. I mean. I.....yeah. We do seem to get along pretty well...."

"Sorry, sorry," Sportacus took a long sip to match. "So how are you feeling about getting an art piece done? I imagine that's a pretty powerful experience"

"It's...actually amazing." Robbie breathed out gratefully. "I seriously can't believe I finished something. It's been years since I finished a piece."

"I guess having something different to look was all you needed."

"Yeah..." Robbie blushed a little and smiled softly. "That might be true. I've been locking myself up in this house by myself for three years.” Sportacus looked up to to Sportacus as he finished his thought. “I didn't have any new inspiration."

"Hey, it seems like doing stuff with me is gonna be good for your career. If not just good for your happiness, which obviously is more important. I’ll take you somewhere when this storm clears out."

"I...guess so..." Robbie rolled the bottle around in his hands, looking down. "It's been so long since I've gone out… anywhere at all... I... hit a really bad depressive episode and since then, I've just shut myself in and kept myself away from other people."

Sportacus put both hands around his bottle. "I understand. I’m sorry. I don’t know if it helps but I feel that way sometimes. But I have to leave my van, and when I do it works out you know?" He ran a hand through his still damp curls. "That's why I've been so insistent on getting you out of here for a bit."

"I'm...I don't know if I'm ready to re-enter society," Robbie whispered, clutching his bottle.

"Wow who said anything about re-entering society. I've been living in a van for two years. _I'm_ not ready to re-enter society." Sportacus gestured to the window. " Forget society! I'm talking like- romping through the snow in your yard or something."

Robbie blushed, "O-oh! Well...I mean...." he looked outside, knuckles white as he twisted at the bottle in his hands. "When the cake is done baking, do you....do you wanna go do that? Like...play outside? In the snow?"

Sportacus felt himself perk up. "Yeah I- I absolutely do want play outside! I noticed you have some swings in your backyard... I don't know if you've ever used swings in the snow but... It's really _really_ fun."

Robbie smiled, "Well we've got a few minutes before the cake is ready. I guess I gotta dig up my old winter gear. Let's see if it still fits." He chuckled a little and drank the rest of his cider before standing.

"Yeah!" Sportacus said, barely containing his enthusiasm, following Robbie to his closet. Sportacus grabbed his scarf from the closet and waited as Robbie scanned his assortment of coats. "That one's nice," Sportacus pointed one of the coats out to him.

"Hmm, yeah," Robbie smiled and grabbed that, along with a purple scarf, purple gloves, and some ridiculously orange earmuffs. He scanned the messy floor of the closet, before grabbing some thick black boots that were hiding in the back.

Sportacus retrieved his hat and vest from upstairs, then hurried back down. As he reached the bottom of the staircase the timer started buzzing. "I got it!" Sportacus called, sliding into the kitchen on his socks.

Robbie laughed, following Sportacus into the kitchen. "Use the oven mitt so you don't burn your hands!" He pulled on a sweater that was laying on the banister.

Sportacus grabbed the oven mitt hanging nearby and opened the oven, sending a wave of heat and aroma at the two men examining the darkened disks. Sportacus reached in carefully and took each out one at a time. "Wow, they look amazing..."

"You're damn right, they do,” Robbie said blissfully. "We'll go romp around in the snow, and by the time we get back, the cakes should be cool and ready for decorating."

Robbie smiled and pulled on the coat in his arms, making an uncomfortable face suddenly tha Sportacus couldn’t really interprete. He shrugged it off and pulled on his scarf, gloves, and earmuffs.

As the two approached the front door Sportacus brushed his hair back and slid his hat and gloves on. He had to take his gloves off to get back into his boots and he laughed at himself; they both laughed as Robbie did the same. 

The snow was still falling; the front porch light illuminated a few yards of the slowly falling flakes. Sportacus jumped out the front door into a snow drift. He turned back, snow crunching under his feet and waited for Robbie to move from the doorway to join him. 

"Come on, Robbie. Come play with me."

Robbie looked around nervously. His hands gripped the doorframe on either side, like it was his lifeline. And in a way, it was. The door was the portal between his life and the rest of the world. The door had been his only protection, his only comfort for years. 

He took a deep breath and let go, using all his might to leap out into the world.


	4. Chapter 4

Robbie laughed as Sportacus kicked up a cloud of snow. "You’re outside!" Sportacus cheered, digging his hands into the snow and sending another burst of powder over the two of them.

"I am!!" Robbie sputtered in disbelief, "I'm...I'm outside of my house..." he sat in amazement, frozen by the weight of revelation. Suddenly the emotion surfaced as a cackle; his hands waved and clapped, brushed through the top layer of snow, compacting it into ball. Robbie threw the ball his hands created, hitting Sportacus’s shoulder with a thump.

"Oh, it's on now." Sportacus tripped backwards a few steps and balled up his own snowball, launching it at his attacker.

Robbie wheezed, trying not to laugh too hard. He rolled over in the snow and balled up another snowball, "This is WAR, Sportacus!" He laughed and threw the snowball against his 'enemy.' When was the last time he'd been this unabashedly happy? He felt like a kid again; more than that it was like he felt like _himself_.

Sportacus threw several more lying prone on his back, which let Robbie get one or two more good hits in. Sportacus hopped up only to drop down dramatically when one of Robbie's snowballs hit him against his hat. "Oh no," he called out. "I'm dead and Robbie Rotten killed me."

Robbie laughed, breathing slightly heavily as he trudged through the snow, "Yes! I defeated the blue menace!"

"What's that? I can't hear you because I'm dead," Sportacus said between his labored breaths.

Robbie laughed and flopped down beside Sportacus, trying to catch his breath. "Hey, no dying yet." Robbie smiled and turned his face to Sportacus, "I just got to meet you.”

They lay there, facing each other as their breaths steadied out, silent twin megaliths in the uncharted night. The light from the porch shown against Sportacus’s face, interrupted by tiny flakes of white drifting in a gust between them. Robbie should have been afraid to look at someone like that, but the shock induced bliss of being outside of his house gave him courage to _be_. He wanted to _be_ for as long as he could, he wanted to look at Sportacus’s eyes shining in the dark until the snow buried them both.

Sportacus stood up, unearthing the dusting of snow that had settled on him and stuck out his gloved hand to Robbie, "Come on."

Robbie took Sportacus’s hand and let himself be pulled up. Something in him prevented him from letting go of Sportacus's hand right away. "Where are we going?"

Sportacus held Robbie's hand as walked ahead, "Like I said before, your old swing set. There’s nothing like swinging in the snow.”

“Okay," Robbie gripped Sportacus' hand tighter as they trudged through the snow.

Everything in the back was unkempt. Lights from inside the house illuminated bushes covered in snow and vines growing against the house, brown and dead in the frigid weather. The yard would need serious work when the weather allowed.

As they got closer, they saw that the snow was nearly up to the seats on the old wooden swing set. Sportacus groaned, which sounded almost alien to Robbie, and started kicking the snow out of the path of the swings. "Just gonna clear it a little..."

"We could go get the shovels from my garage," Robbie suggested quietly, "that would probably be faster than kicking the snow away."

"No, no, it's more fun this way," Sportacus packed down the snow with his whole lower body, looking a little like a dog rolling around in the snow. Robbie couldn’t help but laugh.

"Look, this one's all ready!” Sportacus was covered in snow when he was done but he'd made two little alcoves that looked big enough for their legs to swing.

"I used to use this when I was like 10," Robbie said through a laugh. "My legs are too long now."

“Good point. Easy fix though,” Sportacus tossed his own swing up and over the bar, making the seat sit a little higher. 

"Oh! That's a thing." Robbie picked up the worn rubber seat.

"Yes it is. Maybe you should do yours twice?"

Robbie stepped back and tossed the swing over the bar once and then again. He cringed as the swing set creaked terribly under his weight. "I'm not so sure this is meant to hold two grown adults."

"Probably not, but it'll be fine!" Sportacus assured him from his slightly lower seat. "Sportacus pushed himself off the ground. A laugh escaped him. "I feel like I’m being shaken around in a snow globe!”

Robbie swung himself slowly, a little afraid of the lifespan of the swing set holding them tethered to the earth. Honestly, the fun part was watching Sportacus having fun. "Yeah? Me either...we're not really kids anymore, huh?"

"I'm still a kid,” he said. "I've seen a lot of bad but I'm _always_ going to be a kid." Sportacus went a little higher, laughing as his hat didn't come back down with him. He lifted off the seat momentarily in a near perpendicular weightless and thunked back down on the seat, rattling the chains and making the poor old equipment creak with misuse. 

Robbie winced at the horrible creaking sound, gripping the chains of his swing as Sportacus just laughed delightedly.

Sportacus eased back a little. “Sorry, Robbie. I’m getting a little carried away there. I really am a kid.”

"Well...maybe nothing else would fit you quite as well,” Robbie said lightly.

Sportacus kept swinging and laughing. "Robbie, watch this one," he pumped his legs back hard and jumped off the swing at near its peak, doing a flip midair and landing like a cannonball in the snow.

"Jesus!!" Robbie jumped a little, but he couldn't say he wasn't impressed. That was a little hot.  
He squinted his eyes, trying not to give himself away, "Don't hurt yourself!"

Sportacus laughed, sticking his head out of the snow. "I know, I know. But I never get to do an aerobics stuff anymore." He made his way back to the swing set. "I just love feeling like I'm flying."

"I absolutely _don't_ like that feeling," Robbie shivered, "Anything high up is awful and bad. Especially flying."

"Well, I don't want to freak you out, let's do a ground thing." Sportacus got behind Robbie and grabbed a hold of his swing on its way back and dragging it to a stop, his arms were pretty firmly wrapped around Robbie's upper half. Robbie felt physical and emotionally grounded in Sportacus’s firm hold that seemed to last longer than it needed. Not that Robbie was complaining about that.

"Why don't we make Robbie Rotten's second completed art piece in 3 years: a big tall snow angel,” he said without moving a muscle.

Robbie snorted, "I think that's simple enough." He tilted his head so he could look at Sportacus, and his heart stopped. Oh gosh, they were so close. He felt too frozen to look away from those blue eyes. He coughed awkwardly, finally looking away. "I can't very well get up with you wrapped around me like this.”

"Right," Sportacus said, but he didn't move right away. He moved his hands to Robbie's shoulders, giving them a squeeze. But he didn’t really let go. Before he knew it Robbie wasn't on the swing anymore; he was being held bridal style in Sportacus's arms.

Robbie suddenly became a blushing, sputtering mess. What was happening? This kid...this...this, short man was now holding him in his arms? He felt his brain short-circuiting at the situation, and at just how comfortable Sportacus's arms were. He had to process that, after the initial shock, he did like this feeling. "Sport....Sportacus....what are you doing?"

"I don't know?" He said trudging forward through the snow, seeming surprised by his action as well. "I guess I'm carrying you. Do you want me to put you down?'

"Uh..." the answer was ‘yes,’ right....? But Robbie wasn't so sure. They'd met, what, just yesterday? And yet he'd never felt so close to someone. Not in a long while. So the eventual answer, one that Robbie said nervously, with blush running to his ears, was, "No."

"Good," Sportacus trudged a little further in the snow, until they we're close enough to the house that the snow wasn't quite as high.

Robbie could feel that Sportacus’s arms were starting to shake but for some reason Sportacus wasn’t putting him down. He had stopped walking and was staring at Robbie's face. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Was he noticing how red Robbie was? Probably. Maybe he would think it was the cold? God that was a stupid thing to think. _Of course_ Robbie was blushing because his whole body was being held. Of course he had a big huge crush on this kind, strong, gentle man.

Oh god- Sportacus was leaning in a little. Was he going to kiss him? But suddenly Sportacus’s arms shook more violently and he laughed in a weak kind of way. Robbie's weight was too much. Sportacus managed to lay Robbie down in the snow relatively gently. 

Sportacus tried to get himself up but his arms gave out. He barely stopped himself from falling flush against Robbie. Instead, he rested on his knees astride Robbie's hips. "Sorry," he said out of breath from the effort. "This snow angel probably isn't going to be very good now."

Robbie stared up at Sportacus, eyes wide and face flushed. "I...yeah, probably not," he chuckled softly, a bit awkwardly, and his eyes shifted to looking at how the other man was placed on top of him. If he could get any redder, he did. He covered his face. "We'll have to make a new one."

Sportacus laughed and rested his hands on either side of Robbie's head. "Are you telling me you want me to pick you up again? I think the laziest man in Lazytown is taking advantage of me."

Robbie's eyes shifted to the two hands on either side of his head, and then they traveled back up to the man on top of him. "Well how lazy would I be if I _didn't _take advantage of you?" Robbie wondered what on earth he was saying.__

__Sportacus looked a little flustered by that as well. "This is so stupid," Sportacus said suddenly, cutting through the moment, "can I kiss you?"_ _

__"R-really?" Robbie practically squeaked, "I....heck...." he covered his face again, as it heated up instantly, "Y-yeah?"_ _

__"O-okay. Good," Sportacus said, sounding suddenly nervous. He held his shaking hands behind Robbie's head and shoulder blades and lifted Robbie into a kiss._ _

__Their lips were both cold, and both men were awkward, really painfully awkward, but it was exhilarating… Robbie was frozen in place at first contact. Three years of seclusion and self-loathing...and then suddenly this wild, exciting homeless man he allowed into his home was kissing him, outside, in the snow._ _

__Nothing added up. There was no way to prepare for this, but suddenly, after keeping only to himself, he felt . He felt excitement and sorrow and bliss and everything in between; he was _alive_ again. _ _

__This man he barely knew was kissing him and it felt AMAZING. Sportacus began to doubt himself, pulling away, and Robbie suddenly realized he hadn’t even been kissing back. The taller man pushed himself into the kiss, kissing Sportacus back in a rush of adrenaline._ _

__Sportacus kept kissing him, lifting him further and further until Robbie was sitting straight up. Sportacus broke the kiss. "Hey... So like... What the heck are we doing?" He laughed. "Is this okay?"_ _

__Robbie's mouth hung open and he could feel his heart beating all the way up to his throat. "I..." Robbie choked out a laugh, "I....I think this is okay? God, I want this to be okay." He stared back at Sportacus, his hands finding their way around the other's waist._ _

__Sportacus seemed to tense but was able to relax again. He letting out a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm... I'm..."_ _

__Robbie felt back into the snow, waiting for Sportacus to finish. Sportacus looked so beautiful, leaning over him, light from the kitchen inside softly illuminating part of his face._ _

__"I know we’re just kissing but could you… could you be careful not to touch my chest?" Sportacus faced away from him and his eyes were closed tight._ _

__Robbie stared up at Sportacus, blinking a couple times, "What? O-oh! Oh! I don't want you to think...I mean...." he blushed, "Yes, it's good to set boundaries. We don't have to do anything like that. Anytime soon. I don't-"_ _

__“I’m sorry, I know I’m just really sensitive and I worry too much.” Sportacus said, sounding vulnerable but somehow relieved._ _

__“Well, I can relate to that.” Robbie almost laughed in disbelief, "I'm still stuck on comprehending that I've just been kissed."_ _

__"I'm stuck on that too," Sportacus laughed. He got back down to Robbie's level, hovering above him, hair getting wet from all the snow melting onto it. "I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I think I'd like to kiss you again?" He asked, inches from Robbie, so close even in this dim light Robbie could almost see his pores._ _

__"I think that...I would like to kiss you again too..." Robbie's hands were shaking terribly as he cupped Sportacus' face, and he brought him in for another kiss._ _

__This one felt just as exhilarating, and Robbie found himself breathless, totally caught up in the feeling. Sportacus forehead fell against Robbie as his body relaxed. With a sudden resolve Sportacus picked Robbie back up in his arms. Sportacus shifted Robbie up a little in his arms and kissed him._ _

__Robbie wrapped his arms around Sportacus' shoulders, kissing him back while holding back a round of giggles. "I'm beginning to think you like showing off for me or something."_ _

__"Whatever makes you think that?" Sportacus asked as he tossed Robbie up a bit again, making him flush and hold Sportacus tighter. "Is it my fault if you keep making that cute face whenever I do?" Sportacus started walking back towards the house._ _

__"It's _entirely_ your fault. You're an absolute monster," Robbie chuckled and shuffled one of his hands into Sportacus's curls. "You're some sort of demon coming into my home, making me go outside, making me like you. It's convoluted," he tilted his head back a bit with a smirk, "Not that I'm saying it's a bad thing."_ _

__"That's right." He lifted Robbie up and buried his face into Robbie's exposed neck. "I'm evil and I'm here to clean your house and ruin your life," he said intermittently through kisses._ _

__"Oh, Sportacus, you are absolutely wicked," he found himself giggling again, the kisses tickling his exposed skin. "Coming into my home and smothering me with attention? Sinful."_ _

__"How terrible of me," Sportacus carefully placed Robbie on to his front porch. He left his hands on Robbie’s waist and stroked up and down a little, so softly Robbie could barely feel it through his peacoat._ _

__The part of Robbie’s brain that told him ‘ _stay miserable, stay alone, you deserve it_ ’ started to pick at him, telling him that Sportacus was too good to be true, that he was just looking for a quick hook up, that someone like Sportacus could never have any real affection towards someone like Robbie. His feelings were happening too quickly for him to keep track of; he was caught in a storm of nerves and self loathing and his isolating instincts._ _

__"Now are you ready for cake?" Sportacus asked, taking Robbie’s hand in his._ _

__And that was a feeling Robbie could hold onto._ _


	5. Chapter 5

After coming inside, Sportacus and Robbie made their way to the kitchen, hand in hand. Sportacus’s hand fit right into Robbie’s, and the simple intimacy of the contact was making both men buzz.

In the kitchen, Robbie got to work getting out all they needed for finishing touches of the cake. He cut around the edges of the pan to unstick the cake a little and then flipped it over onto the plate. Sportacus lowered himself so he was eye level with the counter and watched intently as Robbie excavated the cake from the pan. 

Sportacus kept his position, peeking over the edge of the counter as Robbie began slathering frosting on the cake. As he looked up, Robbie quirked an eyebrow and smiled down at Sportacus.

“A piece of cake right?” Sportacus lifted his head a little and rested his chin on his fingers on the counter.

“No, you stop that,” Robbie snorted and flicked from frosting onto Sportacus’s nose.

Sportacus frowned, but he was more surprised than angry. “Food is for growing, _not_ for throwing,” he said as he stood up.

“No, no. I’m pretty sure icing is for throwing,” Robbie chuckled and wiped a bit of what was on the spatula onto Sportacus’s chin. “That’s a good look for you.”

Sportacus made his face as unflattering as he could. “Robbie! I’m gonna break out or something!” He took a handful from the frosting tin and wiped it down the side of Robbie’s cheek.

Robbie gasped dramatically, “How _dare_ you? Ruining my _amazing_ skincare routine…” he said, voice dripping with self-deprecation. Robbie laughed and Sportacus couldn’t help but laugh with him until they were both laughing harder and harder.

“We’re making such a mess,” Robbie smiled at Sportacus.

Sportacus grabbed a paper towel, dampened it, and began to wipe off Robbie’s face for him. “As I’m sure you’re learning, I can handle a little mess. Oh- wait-” he held his frosting-covered finger up to Robbie’s lips, figuring maybe round two of the same trick might be appropriate, especially now that they had actually kissed.

“I think you just like putting your finger in my mouth,” Robbie arched an eyebrow, but didn’t complain as he obliged Sportacus’s wish. He was looking quite pink as he licked Sportacus’s finger, sucking off the excess frosting.

Sportacus felt his body weaken at the sensation of Robbie sucking on his finger. Not only the feeling, but the way that Robbie was looking at him so shly through his lashes combined with the obscenity of the act… “Robbie…” he started, trying his very best to sound playful and kidding, but probably not doing much to hide his sense of wonder. “You’re just... fantastic.”

“Wow, you think that and all I had to do was suck your finger?” Robbie laughed in embarrassment and gave Sportacus’s finger one last lick. “Um.. let’s finish this cake?”

“Yes, right, cake decorating. Back to it.” Sportacus finished wiping Robbie’s face with the wet cloth. Robbie smiled and pressed his face into it a little.

As Sportacus wiped off his own face, Robbie focused back on the cake. He carefully smoothed the frosting, making it nice and even. “There we go…”

“What a pretty sight,” Sportacus smiled. The cake really did look good. Even if Sportacus didn’t like sweets he could at least admire the look of it.

After admiring the cake himself, Robbie brought out a knife. “Well then. I do believe this cake is ready for consumption.” Robbie cut out neat even slices. “I’m assuming you don’t want any?”

Sportacus laughed. “Am I that obvious?”

“You seem fascinated but not appetized. I don’t think I’ve seen you as much as consider any of my sweets since you got here.”

“You’re right. But since we made it… maybe one little bite.”

“Fair enough,” Robbie placed a beautiful slice of cake into a plate, not too big not too small, perfectly proportioned icing-to-cake ratio. Robbie sectioned off a little piece that didn’t have as much frosting and edged it towards Sportacus’s mouth.

Sportacus gulped nervously and opened his mouth a little for Robbie’s fork. The cake was sweet, rich, creamy. “It’s sweet,” he said simply. “Definitely good.”

That put a smile on Robbie’s face, and he took a bite himself, humming in appreciation. “You did most of the work, you know, I just read off the ingredients. It’s really fluffy and airy… perfection.” He took another bite of cake with the same satisfied hum. “So, how come you don’t eat sweets, Sporty?”

“Sporty?” Sportacus questioned.

Robbie looked very embarrassed. “Oh, um- If you don’t like-.”

“No, no it’s cute.” Sportacus gave Robbie a dorky smile.

“Okay, good,” Robbie focused a little too intently on his cake. 

“And about sweets…” Sportacus tried to answer Robbie’s question. “It’s like, you know when you eat a lot of sugar and you get all this energy and you crash?”

Robbie nodded.

“That happens to me but without the energy and the crash is really really hard.”

“Oh! God, we don’t need that…” Robbie actually looked a tad horrified. “No more cake for you then.” He took another bite for himself.

Sportacus put his hands up. “Fine by me. I could watch you eat cake all night.”

"I _could_ eat cake all night," Robbie snorted and leaned against the counter. "I have actually eaten a whole cake in one night. On multiple occasions."

"Oh geez," Sportacus mumbled, genuinely concerned. "What happened? Were you okay?"

Robbie blinked hard, “I… yeah? Don’t sound so distraught,” he chucked and cut up what was left of his cake with his fork. “Some nights just call for a whole cake to yourself. Gotta fill the void somehow.” He looked like he was realizing how that sounded and added, “food and I just have an interesting relationship at this point.”

“Yeah, it sounds that way…” Sportacus looked like he was trying to fight his instinct to worry. He moved to the sink and began scrubbing the pans. “I do too. Foods unreliably available and my appetite has shrunk a lot.” he gripped his stomach unconsciously. “I’m glad you’re eating enough at least.”

“...questionable.” Robbie let out an awkward laugh. “When I hit my first big depressive episode, I ate _a lot_. I had to get new clothes and all that… wasn’t fun.” He poked the little cake left, “I actually don’t really have any clothes that fit me right anymore, because I’m in a weird middle ground and I haven’t gotten any new clothes since then… Sometimes I eat a lot, but most days I kinda just forget to eat? So I’ve lost a bit of weight but not enough to fit comfortably in my old clothes yet.”

Sportacus chewed on the bottom of his lip as he scrubbed the second pan. Hearing about people’s food issues was always hard for him. It was like the sympathy as a health person and as a natural caretaker were both tugging at his heart in unison. He turned over his thoughts probably a little too long before he spoke. “That’s pretty rough.” He dried off his hands. “Hopefully we can both improve on it, if I have a kitchen to make food in, and you have me to make food.”

Robbie looked up at his guest, lowering his plate a bit. A small thankful smile tugged at his lips and he sighed, “Well… I would very much appreciate that, Sportacus.”

Sportacus paused. “Did you eat the soup I brought you earlier?” 

“Um. No, I didn’t,” he looked almost embarrassed. “I think it’s still sitting in the foyer.”

“Oh no! Well, that’s alright. I’m guessing you don’t want it anymore,” Sportacus said as he looked at the sizable portion of the cake that was missing.

“Well…” Robbie licked his fork, “I should probably put more in my body today than just cake. It probably just needs to be warmed up.”

“Oh good!” Sportacus went to the other room and brought the bowl back. “I’m not sure how good it’ll be on the second reheat… Nothing some fresh lime and chips won’t fix.” He pulled his extra ingredients out. “Oh!” He froze in though, “I’ve only eaten one thing today too…”

Robbie laughed a little, “We should take care of that, then. Maybe instead of reheating this, we should think of something else to make for food. For both of us.”

Sportacus looked outside into the dark. “Really? It’s so late… I was just going to eat an apple and call it a night.”

“It’s not really that late. At least I don’t think so…” Robbie rubbed the back of his neck, “We could order delivery?”

Sportacus laughed. “Unless he delivery driver has a snowplow and a lot of determination I don’t think that’s happening.” Sportacus opened the fridge. “It’s not too exciting but we can make eggs? A little breakfast for dinner?”

“That works for me,” Robbie shrugged a little.

Robbie took a look at the rest of the cake, tilting his head in consideration before putting a cover on it and placing it in the fridge.

“How do you like your eggs?” Sportacus asked, feeling suddenly energetic at the prospect of cooking for Robbie.

“Just scrambled is good for me,” he smiled and leaned against the counter as Sportacus got everything ready to cook. “With a little pepper and lots of salt.”

“I can do that.” Sportacus prepared their eggs, two scrambled for Robbie, two sunny side up for himself. “I don’t know how much you care about nutrition, but most people know that your body needs different types of macronutrients; carbohydrates, protein, fat.”

“Sure,” Robbie agreed, though he didn’t sound so sure.

“There are different kinds of carbs, like bread and fruit are very different right? Eggs are mostly protein and fat, and all the kinds of proteins that your body can’t produce from what’s already inside you can be found in eggs. I like to start my days with eggs and fruit when I can. So I can make sure my body has everything it needs.”

“Well…” Robbie said. “That makes all those cakes I eat sound more healthy huh? There’s eggs in those.” Robbie chuckled to himself.

“Yeah!” Sportacus said, without a hint of judgement. “It’s much more important to get enough to eat then to make those calories super healthy.” Sportacus flipped Robbie’s eggs onto a plate and sprinkled a little extra salt on top.

“Hmm… Maybe with you around I’ll have a better meal schedule and not just eat cake at midnight.”  
Sportacus presented the dish with a flourish. “Happy midnight breakfast! Or, happy breakfast dessert? You don’t pay me to be clever.”

“No, I sure don’t,” Robbie laughed as Sportacus joined him at the kitchen island. “But I am paying you to make food, so you’re doing something right.” He smirked and took a bite, “How does 50 dollars a day sound?”

“Hey, I have maybe… two hundred dollars to my name and your giving me a place to stay. You can give me whatever you want.” He thought about it for a second and was gripped with how terrifying the conversation actually was for him. “I mean, is it 50 dollars on top of room and board? Am I paying for food?”

“ _You_ aren’t paying for anything,” Robbie pointed his fork at Sportacus. “You’re cooking and cleaning for me and I’m paying you. And when the weather calms down, I’ll probably send you on grocery runs, so you’ll be able to get food for yourself too.”

Sportacus felt something strong bubbling up in his chest. Hopefulness and relief, trying to break through two years of distrust and broken promises. He’d had situations like this before -really very promising arrangements- and all of them had slipped away from him too soon. None of those people were Robbie though. Sportacus was finding that Robbie was so… very difficult for Sportacus to distrust.

“Okay,” Sportacus said slowly, trying to convince himself. He laughed when he couldn’t bear the tension, “I’m scared out of my mind by how good this would be for me.”

Robbie let his shoulders relax and he smiled softly, “Well…” his face soon turned bashful, and maybe a little anxious. “If you… for some reason decide you want to stay here longer… I mean, even after your van is fixed…” Robbie barely managed to get out his statement, “I mean, it’s not really that exciting here or anything but… if you… if you _do_ decide to stay here longer…” he looked down at his plate, “Then, I suppose… what’s mine would be yours…”

Sportacus was nervous in a whole new way now. “This is so complicated and crazy… The thing we’re doing… _this_ ,” Sportacus gestured between the two of them rather frantically. “We’re nuts. You just met me and you’re offering to let me stay with you, and pay me and you painted me in a portrait and we kissed in your backyard? This is absolutely nuts. Are we gonna be okay?”

Robbie fumbled with his fork in his hands, and fumbled equally with his words, “I mean, well, you… I guess you’re just the only person I’ve come into contact with for so long… I’m probably getting attached too quickly. But I’d like to think this is okay. I don’t really have anything to lose…”

Sportacus put his still untouched eggs to the side and moved his stool a little closer. He placed his hand in Robbie’s. “I’m getting attached to quickly too. I really _really_ like you. And… we were both much worse off two days ago. There’s no middle ground between here and there, so,” he shook and squeezed Robbie’s hand for emphasis. “We _have_ to do this. It _has_ to be alright. We’ll make this be okay.”

Robbie’s eyes knit together, looking at their connected hands for a long, silent moment before he looked back up. And he looked near tears. “I want this to be okay. If… If you left tomorrow, I wouldn’t be the same.”

Sportacus squeezed Robbie’s hand. “I can’t even consider leaving right now. I’m not gonna do that to you…” He had to fight off his own wave of tears. “Heck, I’m not gonna do that to _me_. I just want one ounce of stability in my life.”

“I- yeah,” Robbie laughed but it sounded more like sob. He squeezed Sportacus’s hand back, food forgotten as he leaned his head onto Sportacus’s head. “I want out of this endless loop I’ve been caught in.”

“Me too. I’m getting you out of this,” Sportacus said with determination, clasping the back of Robbie’s head firmly as their head pressed together.

Sportacus’s gaze was little too much for Robbie, so he closed his eyes wrapped his arms around himself, just leaned against Sportacus and breathing with him. After a minute he spoke again, “I’m so glad you broke down in front of my house.”

“Me too. I really really am.” Sportacus wrapped both of his arms around Robbie and pulled him into a sweet and smiling kiss. “Thank you.” Sportacus wanted to hug Robbie but… he just wasn’t ready. Instead he ran his hands over Robbie’s shoulders and let that be enough.

“Thank _you_ ,” Robbie echoed, softening his shoulders under Sportacus’s hands.

Sportacus lifted Robbie’s chin into a kiss. Their kiss was marked by how desperately grateful they both were for each other in that moment. They relaxed more and more, until Sportacus pulled away with a final peck on the check.

“Now,” Sportacus guided Robbie’s attention back to his food, “Finish your dinnerbreakfastdessert, boss.”

Robbie chuckled a little, “Well you better _start_ on yours." He smiled a little, getting back to shoving food into his mouth.

Sportacus let out an awkward laugh, “Oh yeah, I better get on that.” He took his plate and broke the yolk, satisfied that it was still gooey. “Have you ever seen a more perfect meal?” He asked shaking some pepper and garlic onto his eggs.

Robbie looked pointedly at Sportacus instead of his food. “Right here and now? This is definitely the perfect meal.” One corner of his mouth twitched up. “I’m almost done. You’d better catch up.”

Sportacus got a determined look in his eyes and popped the whole cooked egg in his mouth, making Robbie fumble with the last pieces of his eggs to beat him. Sportacus slurped up the second egg a second after Robbie was done.

“Jesus!” Robbie laughed, setting his bowl aside. “You’re absolutely too much.”

Sportacus took a big breath after finishing his food. It really wasn’t healthy to eat that fast, but his desire to challenge himself won out almost near everything. “That was _not_ a good idea,” he leaned his head on Robbie’s shoulder. “I’m gonna pass out right on top of you. You’ll have to carry me.”

Robbie put his arm around Sportacus, “I don’t know if you wanna do that. I’m not very strong. What if I drop you?”

“Who cares? I’ll probably land on my feet.”

Robbie snorted, but stood up and cracked his back. “Hmm… Okay. Up we go,” he moved one hand to Sportacus’s back and another under his legs, heaving Sportacus up in his arms.

Sportacus tensed his entire body. “Oh! Oh jeez, Robbie I was joking you really don’t have to do this.” He clung tightly to Robbie’s shoulder and let out a nervous laugh as Robbie stumbled backwards a bit.

“Whoa...” he said as he struggled to find his balance. “Nah, I’ve got this,” he lifted Sportacus a little higher in his arms and started to make his way upstairs. “I think…”

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I hurt myself all the time, it’s fine.”

“Well, you shouldn’t hurt yourself for someone else. Be careful.”

The last couple steps were the hardest, but he managed. “Almost there,” Robbie sounded very strained. He practically stumbled into the bedroom so he could safely drop Sportacus on the bed. He let himself fall backwards onto the mattress as he tried to catch his breath.

“That was such a bad idea,” Sportacus chastised, but he couldn’t really be mad. Sportacus clung to the stability of the bed for a moment and then got on his knees beside Robbie, kissing him deeply, then pulling away and petting his hair. “But thank you. And I am very proud of you.”

Robbie let out an airy laugh, his face red from more than just exerting himself. “I can’t believe I actually did it…” he chuckled and rolled over a little so he was facing Sportacus’s knees.

Sportacus pulled Robbie up so he was laying in the bed more properly. “Robbie Rotten: painter of paintings, carrier of men. How did I get so lucky?” Sportacus asked as he laid down next to Robbie.  
Robbie giggled softly, “I don’t know. I feel like I’m the lucky on here, all things considered.”

“I’m definitely getting the good end of the stick,” Sportacus reached his arm around Robbie to scratch his back.

He laid an arm across Sportacus’s back, and their chests were almost flush against each other. “Is this okay? To be this close right now?”

Sportacus’s heart was beating like a jackhammer. It wasn’t realistic to keep Robbie at a distance but… he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t risk letting Robbie close… Robbie kicking him out like everyone else had done… He couldn’t take it partially because his finances were so dire, and partially because the potential of losing the only emotional intimacy he’d had in years was too much to bear.

He was getting ahead of himself. Maybe Robbie wouldn’t notice that he… They were both so tired and soft...

Sportacus wordlessly closed the small space between them, wrapping both of his arms around Robbie and holding him so closely, so tightly, already feeling like he could cry. It was his first hug in years.

Robbie couldn’t know why it was so important for Sportacus, but it was impossible to miss the desperation and importance from the way Sportacus gripped him. Robbie held Sportacus close, leaving space for Sportacus to bury his face in the crook of his neck as they shared this moment of intimacy. Words couldn’t describe how amazing it felt to hug someone for the first time in so long, and Sportacus realized that Robbie was feeling the same way.

“You don’t know how good this feels,” Sportacus mumbled into Robbie’s neck. 

“Maybe I don’t,” Robbie whispered, giving Sportacus a squeeze. “But it feels pretty damn good to me too.” He pressed a kiss against Sportacus’s head.

Robbie started to lightly rub up and down Sportacus’s back. It felt like there were sparks rolling off the ends of Robbie’s fingers. Those hands were static and with each brush they eased off layer after layer of tension. Sportacus was ticklish _everywhere_ but it felt so good to have someone touching him that he didn’t mind. Sportacus mimicked the motion on Robbie’s back.

“You don’t have any idea,” Sportacus was able to say. “You don’t know what it is that’s weird about me.” His question came out as more of a statement of fact.

“There’s a lot that’s weird about me, Sportacus. Things that are _wrong_ with me.” Robbie sighed, “As long as you’re not secretly a murderer-“

Sportacus laughed at the concept. “I promise it’s not that.”

“See? I don’t think there’s anything weird about you that’s going to change how I feel.”

“Tonight has been so much already… Let me just hold you and we don’t have to think about it.”

“That sounds perfect,” Robbie smiled softly, curling their legs together, “I feel so comfortable like this. With you.”

Sportacus pulled the blankets up over them both and was happy that Robbie nuzzled up to him as soon as the blanket fell on them. “Your bed is really comfy, Robbie. It’s even comfier with you in it.” He got himself back into cuddling position, worming his way into Robbie’s arms.

“There’s just…” he paused and ran the back of his hand over Sportacus’s face, “a lot of memories in this room that I’d rather not think about.” Robbie sighed and held Sportacus closer, “But maybe it’ll be okay with you here.”

“I’ll protect you from your bad memories,” Sportacus said with certainty. “I’ll protect you from everything.”

Robbie smiled, “My hero,” he said sarcastically. He sighed deeply as he pressed his face into his hair. “Goodnight, Sportacus.”

“Goodnight, Robbie,” Sportacus tried to steady his breathing, and felt sleep take him quickly.

 

Sportacus woke up and noticed the weight next to him was gone. He could hear something going on downstairs so he figured Robbie must have gotten up. Had Robbie had a bad dream? He felt a little responsible after his bold statement about protecting Robbie.

He removed the blanket from over his head and realized they’d left the lights on when they fell asleep. How unusual. A quick glance at the clock told him it was three AM, which meant they’d only been asleep about two hours.

Sportacus got up and changed into something better for sleeping. He looked around the room and tried to take it in for the first time. He’d been too tired to think about anything the previous night. Tonight he noticed that the room was pretty ordinary. There were a couple dusty books, some clothes hanging around, but there was noticeably less art related clutter then the rest of the house. The dresser had some picture frames, all turned down. Sportacus didn’t like to be nosy, but he couldn’t resist turning up at least one of them. The fame held a slightly younger image of Robbie posing dramatically (almost silly dramatic) in front of a sign with his name on it. Probably one of those galleries Robbie had said he’d been in. Sportacus laid the picture back down and decided he was done snooping. 

Sportacus thought about going downstairs and checking on Robbie but… he was all changed and comfortable… and the blankets smelled like Robbie. Well, Robbie and dust, but mostly the Robbie part was what was keeping him in bed. Sportacus decided he should let Robbie have his space anyway. The couch was probably a much easier space for him to sleep. So he fell asleep again, wondering about the stories from the down turned picture frames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the raw copy paste of this fic is about 150,000 words and counting rn... it just takes me a while to get through turning rp replies into a more cohesive narrative w/ my classes and jobs.
> 
> I know this fandom is dwindling but this project is pretty important to me and there's good stuff to come, so I appreciate all y'alls support so far :') -talax


	6. Chapter 6

_Sportacus sat on the top of his van and watched the bugs buzz around the always running lights outside his high school. The stillness of the night served to amplify the beating of his heart, the shallowness of his breath. It was too early for any teachers to have arrived and too late for any night time custodians to be lingering on the premises._

_He was in the town he had lived in since he was three._

_It was the March of his senior year._

_And this was the last time Sportacus would see his school._

_He’d been here at this hour plenty of times, always the first at practice. His unusual sleep schedule meant that he was used to being up before the sun. But he wasn’t here for practice. He wasn’t going to anymore practices._

_After what felt like forever, he slid down the roof of his van and made his way through the mist. First, he went to the track. He hopped the fence easily and dashed with all his might as soon as his feet met the tartan turf. His steps echoed through the aluminum stands. The nervous energy he’d pent up propelled his muscles onward, faster and faster still, nearly losing his balance as he made his final turn. He stopped when he reached his starting point, fell onto his back. Surely -he thought as he panted on the ground and stared into the night- the time he just ran would have been a personal best._

_After catching his breath, Sportacus moved to the soccer field, soaking his shoes in the morning dew. He found a forgotten ball on the outskirts and ran a few drills. First he ran them meticulously, then he sped up and pushed himself to move faster, sloppier._

_He tripped abruptly on the ball and just managed to save himself from a hard landing. He lowered himself down on the grass, not caring about the dew seeping through his clothing. He watched the ball as it bounced off the goal posts and caught it as it rolled back to him. From his back, he held the ball up against the field lights. It was scuffed all over and he just knew that this was one of the balls he and his teammates used. He wondered how many of his friends had kicked it? He wondered how many times it had passed between them. How many practices had this ball been through? How many games? Had it scored a winning goal? How many kicks did a ball require before the passion and drive of each player was forever imbued into its rubber stitching?_

_He stood up and threw the ball as far down field as he could. The effort of it left him panting and vaguely confused as it rang against the net post and bounced right back to him. He caught it and worried it between his hands._

_Sportacus told himself he wasn’t going to bring things like this. He didn’t have the space. It didn’t have any resale value. It hurt enough that he wouldn’t be saying goodbye. He didn’t need those kinds of emotional things rolling around the bed of his van, making him angry and bitter and tearing him apart._

_With a heavy sigh, Sportacus headed back to the van, ball under his arm. He didn’t dare glance at his rearview mirrors until he was sure he wouldn’t be able to see what he’d left behind._

 

\---

 

Sportacus finally broke free from his morning reminiscing, feeling tired although he’d gotten plenty of sleep. When he went downstairs and found Robbie roughly in the same place he’d been the previous morning, sleeping soundly at his desk. His head was buried in his arms, a mess of paint, a mug of coffee, and an empty plate around him. The plate was syrup-covered and had presumably held pancakes too. Well… At least he'd eaten something.

"Robbie...” Sportacus whispered in an affectionate way, quiet enough to not wake him up. Sportacus wrapped the blanket he’d left the previous day over Robbie’s shoulders and took the plate back to the kitchen.

What was the plan today? He'd have to finish shoveling. He made himself some hot water -he'd really have to get some tea from his van today- and went to the front door to observe the snow, although he spent more time observing the sleepy artist than looking outside.

As far as Sportacus could tell, it was done snowing. But he'd wait a bit to go outside. He headed back to the kitchen and munched on some fruit. He decided he would meditate and do yoga for a bit until Robbie woke up. Then he would finish shoveling, try to get his van into the driveway, and unpack the rest of his stuff. Sportacus found a spot looking out the window and crossed his legs to meditate. 

Another hour went by before Sportacus barely heard the sound of Robbie whispering his name, well, whispering that very very adorable nickname. “Sporty?”

Sportacus stood up from his spot on the floor and greeted Robbie with a kiss. Robbie looked so cute with his tousled hair and his half lidded eyes, and his lips still tasted like syrup. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

"Good morning...." Robbie yawned, pressing in with another, more conscious kiss. He gave Sportacus a sleepy smile, "Sorry I didn't stay in bed... I never sleep very well..."

"I know," Sportacus said, adjusting the blanket so it sat around Robbie’s shoulders a little more evenly. "I'm just glad I got to fall asleep next to you. Did you have any nightmares?"

"Not that I can remember," Robbie smiled slightly and stretched a bit, sitting more upright. "It was nice to wake up and see you though..."

"I bet." Sportacus put his hand on Robbie's shoulder. "Are you feeling hungry for lunch yet?"

"I am pretty hungry now, actually..." Robbie mused and scratched at his stomach under his shirt. "I could go for anything right now."

"Hmm,” Sportacus made a pleased sound, "that's a lot of power. I could make you the healthiest lunch possible.” He waved his fingers as if he was revealing something spooky and nefarious, “Like a big huge salad."

"Ha! Nice try, but I don't have anything to make a salad!" Robbie smirked, leaning against his desk, "Your evil plan has been thwarted."

"Darn!" Sportacus snapped his fingers. "Looks like I just _have_ to make you something you like.” He started his walk back to the kitchen, "You want any more coffee?"

Robbie smiled and got up, meandering his way into the kitchen, "I would very much like more coffee..."

"Aright, show me how the machine works," Sportacus asked and observed carefully as Robbie prepared his coffee.

"I like to put in four spoons of sugar, a lot of vanilla creamer, and sometimes I like to add hot chocolate mix." He showed Sportacus his sugary concoction before taking a drink.

Sportacus couldn't help but frown at the thing. "I think I would die if I had one ounce of that. But at least now I can make it how you like it," Sportacus said as he moved to survey the pantry. It was looking pretty barren. The shelves were filled with mostly cans. More cans than Sportacus possibly knew what to do with. Cans and boxes of dehydrated starches. He moved to the fridge and checked there. Inside were many condiments, not that he could use them for anything. There was nothing green, unless you counted the green of that tequila bottle still sitting in the back.

“Well... I can manage eggs and ramen or beans and franks."

"Hmm... let’s do beans and franks,” Robbie said thoughtfully.

Sportacus clicked the stove on and poured in the canned concoction. “It’s not the healthiest food in the world but it has plenty of protein.”

Robbie chuckled and took another sip, "Whatever you say." He set the mug down softly and came up behind Sportacus, wrapping his arms around his stomach from the back.

Sportacus tensed and quickly got out of Robbie’s arms.

“I have to get dressed,” he said quickly, and he was already on his way out of the kitchen. “Can you keep an eye on the beans?"

"O-oh! Uhm..." Robbie looked a little surprised, but he stepped back a bit and grabbed his mug, looking at the beans. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

Sportacus hurried upstairs leaving Robbie stirring the pot rather timidly.

Sportacus came back down stairs after a couple minutes. “Hey, Robbie,” Sportacus greeted Robbie behind a pile of his clothing in his arms. "Where's your laundry machine?"

Robbie looked up from stirring the beans so quickly that it was obvious he was waiting for Sportacus to come back. "Oh! It's through the door over there," he pointed down the hall.

"Thank you!" Sportacus found the room and stuffed his clothing in the washer without much care. He hurried back to the kitchen and gave Robbie a peck on the cheek. Sportacus wrapped himself around Robbie in a similar way as Robbie had done earlier, resting his head on the taller man's shoulder. "Sorry about running off. I'm a little weird about physical contact when I'm still in my PJs."

"Oh. I-I'm sorry," Robbie stuttered awkwardly, reaching a hand back to scratch through Sportacus's hair.

Sportacus pressed a few kisses into Robbie's neck. "It's okay." He reached from under Robbie's arms and took the spoon, stirring the beans around for himself. "It looks like these are warm enough now." He grabbed a bowl and scooped it out for Robbie.

"Now we just need the franks," Robbie smiled, but he still seemed uncomfortable. He pulled away to get to the fridge, grabbing some hot dogs.

They waited to bring the water to a boil, and Robbie brushed his hand over Sportacus's. "Hey. I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick, okay?"

"Mmkay," Sportacus said giving him a quick peck before Robbie headed upstairs. Sportacus scooped out a bowl of beans for himself before he added the hotdogs. He absent-mindedly stirred the hotdogs around in their pot.

Robbie was gone for a little longer than ‘real quick,’ but when he did come back, he was rubbing the back of his neck, eyes lowered, and he looked a little nervous. He wouldn’t meet Sportacus’s gaze.

"Sportacus? ...Um... there was.... blood? Under the toilet seat?"

Sportacus froze. He felt his heart stop, then abruptly start beating at twice its resting rate. He didn't know what to say until suddenly he was saying everything. "I'm sorry- I- I was going to tell you I- I've gotten thrown out so many times." He felt dizzy. He shut his eyes very tight and spat out, “I’m transgender. I used to be on hormones but I couldn’t get a hold of them with all this moving around and I can’t really afford them anyway and…sometimes… I get periods again.”

Robbie looked up, "I… Sportacus," he walked a bit closer, but didn't get too close yet, "Gosh, for a second I thought there was actually something wrong. But I thought more about it, and all your stuff about hugging… I guess you confirmed it.” He shifted on his feet awkwardly.

"Please don’t pretend it’s okay if it’s not.” Sportacus left his eyes shut tight, tensing his body more and more, “Just break up with me and kick me out quickly."

"Sportacus!" Robbie’s voice was filled with a painful tenor. He came forward and placed his hands gently on Sportacus' shoulders, attempting to ground him, "Sportacus, I'm not kicking you out. I wouldn’t do something like that. I'm... _I'm _not even cis, either.”__

__Sportacus opened his eyes to meet Robbie's gaze. "Wait, wait - what? You… what?"_ _

__"I can fund your hormone therapy. I'll get you whatever you need. Do you have enough pads?” Robbie spoke quickly, maybe frantically trying to make Sportacus stop feeling so sad._ _

__"What? What are you saying? I'm still stuck on you not kicking me out and you’re also telling me that _you're trans_ and- and-“_ _

__“That I’ll buy you whatever you need.” Robbie cut Sportacus off with confidence._ _

__“Stop- Stop saying that,” Sportacus shut his eyes and put his hands over his ears. He only stopped when Robbie squeezed Sportacus’s shoulders tightly._ _

__“What’s wrong?” Robbie asked sweetly, and Sportacus realized he was crying._ _

__And then Sportacus was crying _a lot _. He wrapped himself around Robbie and spoke into his shoulder, "What’s wrong? I’ve got whiplash. Just hold me.”___ _

____Robbie laughed a little, holding Sportacus close and letting him cry it out, "I can do that." He held him tighter, rubbing up and down his back. "Seriously... if you need something to help your transition just... just let me know." He held Sportacus almost protectively, not intending to let the shorter man out of his grasp until he wanted to be._ _ _ _

____“Please, Robbie,” he laughed, although it was a stressed little laugh, “I’m still on number one. Stop saying that.”_ _ _ _

____"I can do that too," Robbie chuckled softly, giving Sportacus a squeeze._ _ _ _

____Sportacus let himself be held, let his crying be muffled and absorbed by Robbie's shoulder. He felt so warm. He even felt… safe. Maybe Robbie was telling the truth? About the first thing. He should probably address the second thing. He let out a breath and leaned back a little. "So you’re trans? What pronouns do you want me using for you?”_ _ _ _

____"Oh, well...any pronouns are fine with me, really..." Robbie said. "It never really feels relevant… but… uh...’they’ is good. ‘He’ is also fine. ‘She’ happens rarely but sometimes… I think I'm what you'd consider nonbinary?"_ _ _ _

____Sportacus tried not to smile too broadly. "I can do ‘they’ until you tell me to switch it up," Sportacus took one final deep breath in Robbie’s arms. "Let see if I’ve ruined your hotdogs yet." Sportacus gave Robbie's arm another squeeze and turned to check on the stove. “They might be a little extra boiled.”_ _ _ _

____Robbie smiled, "I'm sure it'll still taste fine." They stepped beside Sportacus and rubbed up and down his back, pulling some utensils out from the drawer._ _ _ _

____He leaned into Robbie's hand for a second and then transferred the hotdogs to Robbie's bowl, cutting them into little slices._ _ _ _

____Robbie sat down at the table with the prepared food, poking at it in thought. "You know, one good thing about this small town is that is actually pretty accepting. I'm sure getting you back on hormones would be pretty easy. You need a therapist for that right? I haven't seen my therapist in a while, but I could email her for you? She's nice."_ _ _ _

____"I don’t need a therapist. I already have a letter and a diagnosis and all that. I was on hormones for a bit before getting kicked out… I thought I said to stop talking about that?” Sportacus stuck up a spoon accusingly._ _ _ _

____Robbie shrugged. “I can’t help it. You’re not letting me help you and I _want_ tremendously_. "Thank you, Robbie," Sportacus walked around the counter and kissed them once more. "I'm going to finish this driveway now. Have fun inside." Sportacus ruffled Robbie's bedhead._ _ _

___Robbie smiled, "Stay warm!"_ _ _

___ _

___\---_ _ _

___ _

___Sportacus was glad to be back to physical labor. He had so much to process. His life had been one hundred miles per hour, place to place, meal to meal, but suddenly he was quite literally standing still, in a committed relationship, and steadily employed by a very rich person who wouldn't leave their home. How would the two of them balance their lifestyles? And now that Robbie knew Sportacus was trans and accepted him... that meant that Sportacus really _would_ be staying. And that was a whole other mess of problems to worry about, problems like, Sportacus dating the person he relied on for food, shelter, and income. He’d gotten himself into some messy living situations before but the sudden dependency he had on Robbie was stupidly dangerous. He cared about Robbie and he wanted this to work but… He still couldn’t let his guard down completely. _ _ _

___But he wanted very badly to trust Robbie… He needed this. He needed to be able to let his guard down. Robbie needed Sportacus as much as Sportacus needed Robbie. Robbie needed him to fight their depression and to leave their house and to make art again. Did that make Robbie financially dependent on Sportacus? Was this situation equally as life or death for Robbie as it was for Sportacus?_ _ _

___Sportacus used all his force to chip at an icy patch. Physical labor was so easy for him, but the emotional labor of bringing Robbie back into the world was going to be tougher. He wouldn't have it any other way of course, because he lov- he cared about Robbie a great deal. He wanted to clean Robbie's house and rearrange everything so Robbie could know that things were different now, that _they_ were different now and he wasn't going to let them rot away. He wanted to bring that childish but weathered spirit of theirs out to the explore the town Sportacus had never seen and Robbie had long forgotten. God, despite all the implications, it was exhilarating to think he was financially stable enough to actually focus on personal growth. It was whiplash, but so was getting kicked out of the house. He could deal with this one way easier._ _ _

___Before he knew it, Sportacus was almost done chipping away at the ice at the end of the driveway, vest and sweater gone and sleeves all the way rolled up. He let himself get lost again in the calculating forcefulness of the task at hand._ _ _


	7. Chapter 7

Robbie found themself staring at Sportacus for a while, watching him through the window of their study. He was so pleasant to look at, with his muscles out even in the snow. His movement was complex, dynamic, gestural; he was just perfect for figure drawing. Robbie scrambled to rearrange their chair and easel, facing towards the window so he could observe Sportacus.

Yes, that was better. They could watch Sportacus work as they themself worked. Robbie found themselves making gesture drawings on a large pad of paper as Sportacus shoveled. They captured a multitude of expressive poses; Sportacus was always shifting his form, presumably preventing any muscles from tiring out.

Robbie could not say they were doing the same; their shoulders were getting a little stiff. They stood up and went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. Hot chocolate and some ‘warm milk’ for their silly boyfriend. 

A chill tickled Robbie’s neck at the thought. Robbie had only known Sportacus for three days now but… He was their _boyfriend_. Was that too weird? Too stupid and reckless? Probably. But Sportacus was worth being stupid for.

Robbie laughed at themself for being so sappy as they put two cups of milk in the microwave. Robbie had never considered themself a hopeless romantic but... They were falling so hard for Sportacus. There was a first for everything, they supposed, and they had a feeling that if they stayed with Sportacus there were going to be a lot more firsts. 

What a terrifying but intriguing concept it was, the inevitability of change, a horizon of new truths; even a hopeful future was frightening to them after all this time. The forces that be were moving Robbie’s life forward again and Robbie had no choice but to go along for the ride.

After Robbie had finished preparing the hot chocolate (and milk), they bundled up and headed outside. The bright light and cold were grating, but Robbie could also feel how much their body appreciated the fresh air. Their boots scuffed along the path that Sportacus had cleared down the driveway.

“Sportachill-“

Sportacus jumped a little, apparently not hearing Robbie over the sound of his shovel chipping at ice.

“Here, Sportacus. Take a break for a minute.” They held up the milk for Sportacus to take.

“Oh, wow. That’s so sweet! Thank you, Robbie.” Sportacus bypassed the mug to wrap his arms around Robbie, squeezing them in a surprisingly warm hug. “Sorry I’m all sweaty,” he apologized as he let himself fall back onto the wall of snow he’d constructed. Sportacus sighed dreamily as the cold snow melted against his exposed arms.

Robbie smiled and sat in the snow drift next to Sportacus, packing the snow down under them a little with a wiggle. They handed Sportacus his mug of warm milk and leaned against him. “You’re making good progress. I’m sure you’ll be able to get your van in the driveway soon.”

“I hope so,” Sportacus sighed. “My van got totally covered in snow down at the side of road where it broke down, so I have to dig that out too. And then who knows if the darn thing will even start.” He moved his arms out of the snow and started on his warm milk.

“What exactly happened?” Robbie asked.

“Well. I’m not sure, honestly.” Sportacus rubbed through his hair, speaking slowly, “It was the weirdest thing. My van is so reliable. I keep it in good condition even though it burns through my savings. It just kind of… stopped working all of the sudden.”

“Huh,” Robbie paused in thought. “I figured the ice made you swerve off the road or something.”

“Nah,” Sportacus shook his head. “The snow wasn’t that bad when it broke down.” 

“So, it just _happened_ to die while you were driving through here?”

Sportacus shrugged, “Uh-huh.”

The two sat in quiet for a moment, both dwelling in how chance their encounter was, how easily they could have missed each other. In an act of reminding himself that Sportacus was Here and Real, Robbie wrapped their arms around Sportacus’s waist protectively, leaning over into his lap. “Wow,” he breathed.

“Wow.” Sportacus repeated, quietly touching Robbie’s back. They shared the moment appreciating the tremendous serendipity. 

Then, the moment passed and Sportacus stood back up reluctantly. “I better get back to it while we still have daylight. I’m almost done with the driveway.”

“Alright, Sporty. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Sure,” Sportacus assured Robbie. He took Robbie’s hands and lifted them off the snow pile, pulling them up until they were in his arms. “Thank you. You’re very sweet for making me take a break.”

“I-I try,” Robbie blushed and leaned into the hug. “You seem to _like_ physical labor but you should still be careful…”

“I do, and I will be.” Sportacus assured Robbie again, giving them a quick peck on the cheek before Robbie set off towards the house and Sportacus got back to work.

\---

Sportacus leaned back on the mount of muddy icy slush he’d created and surveyed the long empty driveway behind him. He felt _good_ having completed that task but… he still had his van to unearth and that task was daunting. Almost daunting enough to make him want to go inside and get warm cuddling Robbie…

But he was never one to give into indulgence.

He cracked his fingers and set out down the road to his van.

The van was irregularly titled: the right wheels raised by the snow that had accumulated on the shoulder when Sportacus had pulled over. Not that you could really see any of that now. The snow on the roof blended with the snow drift he’d parked in and then continued sloping down past his doors. The sloping snow made it look like his van was a rock sticking out of the face of a mountain. He really wasn’t sure how he was going to get it out of there. All he could do was start clearing the side and front and hope for the best.

This task took more care and planning than shoveling the driveway. As he worked, he barely noticed the sun dipping lower and lower. The days were much shorter this far north.

He focused on getting the doors closest to the road free so he could get into the abandoned vehicle, chipping away carefully at the snow compacted by passing plows.

“Sportacus!”

Sportacus jumped and turned at the voice from down the road. 

“It’s dark, Sporty,” Robbie said as they walked quickly down the road towards Sportacus. “I think you should be done for the day.”

“Oh, geez. It _is_ dark,” Sportacus said looking around in a daze as Robbie broke the spell his concentration had him under. “I guess I got a little lost in the task… Hey, since you’re here. Do you want to help me carry some stuff inside?”

“I guess so,” Robbie shrugged. “Can’t say I’m not curious to see what it looks like inside.”

Sportacus dusted some loose snow off the hood. “It’s not fancy but it’s home. Wait till it’s bright out and I have it cleared off. The outside is cool too. A friend painted it for me in high school.”

With what was cleared off now, Robbie could see a big blue ten painted on the sliding door of the van. The van was pretty old, but the 10, the racing stripe, and the camper style of it made it seem a little less junky-old and a little more hip-vintage old.

“She’s worn, but she’s got a lot of personality.” Sportacus rested his shovel in the snow and opened the sliding van door.

It didn’t exactly look like a normal van--the dim light revealed the back seat was removed and replaced by a futon mattress. The front seat and the futon were divided by a cooler and a few neatly stacked cardboard boxes. Sportacus hoped that it wasn’t too obvious that a homeless person lived in the van; the vibe was sort of young adult on a cross country road trip. It wasn’t as decked out as those high-tech yuppie vans with hardwood floor and shelving installed, but it was organized and livable. 

“So, what do you want to bring inside?” Robbie asked as they looked over the van.

Sportacus thought for a moment before hopping inside and moving some boxes towards the door, one neatly labeled “Food/Tea”, another labeled “First Aid/Misc”. Robbie picked up a gym bag that Sportacus had pushed in their direction and slung it over their shoulder. 

Sportacus jumped back out and they both claimed a box, plush Sportacus draped a blanket over Robbie’s shoulders and tossed a mesh bag of laundry onto his own box to carry.

Sportacus balanced the weight of the box as he shut the door. “You good?” He asked behind the pile in his arms.

“I’m good,” Robbie said with a soft grunt. The two headed back towards the house. “Gosh, you moving in or something?” they joked lightly.

“Uh,“ Sportacus felt a spike of panic before he realized that Robbie was joking. “Oh, yeah. Very rude of me.” He attempted to play along without revealing too much of his prickly-ness over being an unwelcome guest.

“Might be getting ahead of yourself-“

Sportacus’s facade faded terribly quickly, stopping dead in his tracks. “Are you being serious? I’m sorry. Is it too much?”

“Sportacus, no.” Robbie shifted under the weight of the box they were carrying. “I’m joking. I’m the one inviting you in.”

Sportacus caught back up to Robbie. “Oh, right. I’m just a little… I’m a little sensitive.”

 

“I’m sorry, really. I want you here,” Robbie apologized gently as they rested their box on their knee to open the front door. 

“Okay,” Sportacus exhaled sharply. “Okay,” he said a little softer, a little more convinced.

“Now let’s get this stuff up in my bedroom.”

“Your bedroom?” Sportacus’s felt a fear grip him again. “Are you sure? Is there a place you’d rather put me so you can have that private space.”

Robbie laughed a little, “Sportacus, I didn’t even use my bedroom before you got here. It’s all yours.”

“But your privacy-“ Sportacus shifted uncomfortably in the doorway.

“Sportacus,” Robbie repeated. “This is a house built for a whole family. If I need privacy, I’ll find it.”

“Okay, okay. If you say so.” Sportacus closed the door. He would just have to trust Robbie was being honest. He could do that. At least he hoped so.

They brought the boxes upstairs. All of Sportacus’s possessions sat in a neat pile in a bare corner of Robbie’s room. Sportacus hadn’t really thought about how little he had when it all filled up the space of the van so well.

“I might try to get rid some of my older stuff in here,” Robbie said as they both looked at the pile, “to make room for your stuff.”

The boxes really weren’t in the way. They didn’t need to make space. But Robbie was being polite.

“That would be nice of you. I can help with that.” Sportacus sat on the bed and looked away from his possessions. “But we’ve both been working so hard today… Let’s leave it for tomorrow.” He put out his hand indicating he wanted Robbie to come closer.

Robbie moved forward to sit on the bed with Sportacus, and slowly, maybe a little awkwardly, they connected hands.

Sportacus squeezed their hand a little, “Your boyfriend is moving in, isn’t that like, a big relationship marker? Oh wait—we haven’t even said ‘boyfriend’ yet. Is that okay?” Sportacus laughed a little; it seemed so silly to ask at this point.

Robbie laughed too, “What? Boyfriend is absolutely okay. I’ve been—” They were obviously flustered; they hunched their shoulders a bit, trying to hide their face a little. “I already call you that in my head.”

“Good.” Sportacus wrapped his arms around Robbie and drew them out of their self-imposed shell with a kiss. “What about you? Should I call you some other gender-neutral version of that?”

“Um…” Robbie kissed Sportacus back, looking off in thought. “I never thought about it… I suppose whatever you want. ‘Significant other’ seems too long for me. ‘Partner’? Eh… I don’t hate it but…” they tapped their chin, “Maybe I could…” Their face flushed again and they looked back to Sportacus shyly, “I could just be… _your_ Robbie?”

Sportacus felt a prickle at his neck, “my Robbie…” he repeated the phrase in wonder and a big smile spread across his face. All at once, he wrapped his arms around Robbie and knocked them both over onto the bed. He smothered Robbie with kisses over their face and neck, “mine. My Robbie,” Sportacus said between kisses.

Robbie laughed and squirmed a little under Sportacus, feeling their skin tickle with each new kiss. “Stop that,” they giggled, trying to hide their brilliantly red face.

Sportacus let Robbie cover their face and kissed their hands instead. “I just really like that,” he mumbled dreamily and plopped down next to Robbie, both of their feet dangling off the side of the bed.

“Yeah?” Robbie peeked at Sportacus from behind his fingers. “It’s really cute when you say it… let me try.” They uncovered their face and leaned up a little, their faces were close, barely touching, “My Sportacus.”

Sportacus melted, pulling Robbie that inch closer to kiss, savoring the moment of peace. He felt so good to be in Robbie’s— in _his_ Robbie’s arms. He put a hand in Robbie’s hair and guided their head against his in a kiss. “My Robbie,” he whispered into the kiss.

Robbie smiled as they kissed and they wrapped their arms around Sportacus’s back as they continued.

Sportacus pulled away and nuzzled into Robbie’s chest, pulling one of his own car blankets around himself. “I’m so cozy… staying with you has been a lesson in relaxing…” He ran his finger on top of Robbie’s chest, making little circles in his path.

Robbie chuckled, “Good. It’s important to learn how to relax… especially when you’re with someone like me.” They smiled and ran a hand through Sportacus’s curls. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping right now… but I don’t think either of us have eaten in the last few hours.”

“Oops,” Sportacus laughed and felt his stomach, “ Let’s see if we can get a meal together.”

“Also…” Robbie mumbled a little quieter, “I painted you while you were shoveling.”

“Oh really?” Sportacus asked, voice lifting.

“Yeah, really. It still needs some little changes but it’s close to complete. Do you want to see?” Robbie asked, sounding both boasting and vulnerable in a way that was uniquely Robbie.

“Of course I do!” Sportacus pulled Robbie up out of bed and into his arms. “Let’s see it.

Robbie gave Sportacus a fidgety smile and led him down into the foyer, hand in hand. The easel was set up in the front window, Robbie went to it and turned it towards Sportacus.

Sportacus was struck, firstly by the colors, how it was clearly a depiction of snow but the colors seemed to bounce and reflect in the snow believably but magically, then struck by the way everything was positioned on the canvas: it felt so alive.

“It’s so…” Sportacus had to search his brain for the right words to use, never having studied or paid much attention to art, “The way I look is so complicated. Like I’m really moving. I can’t believe you could capture that just by watching me. Did you take pictures of me?”

“Well. No, actually,” Robbie reached behind the easel and grabbed a large pad of paper. They flipped it open and revealed a plethora of sketches they had done while Sportacus was working. “I just drew until I felt like I had the right pose for the painting.”

Sportacus took the large pad and looked at all the tiny sketch versions of himself. “That’s really incredible… All of these are incredible,” Sportacus handed them back the pad. “You really are a world-class artist.”

Robbie blushed bright red, “Well… I mean… I guess I’m not terrible?” They hid their face, “This is the first time I’m not angry with something I’m creating.”

“That’s nice.” Sportacus sidled up to Robbie’s side and wrapped an arm around them, petting their hair. “So, your art is usually angry, huh?” Sportacus asked. “When do I get to see some old school Robbie Rotten’s.”

“I don’t know… nothing from my isolated period was ever really good, even if you seem to think differently…” they sighed, leaning into Sportacus’s touch, “I’d show you my successful gallery pieces but…” they released a small whimper and spoke with a look resembling jealousy, “I’m frustrated my art isn’t like that anymore.”

“That does sound frustrating,” Sportacus affirmed as he pulled Robbie’s head down onto his shoulder. “Maybe it can’t look like that anymore. But it can be different, right? Maybe even better-different?” Sportacus asked, hands running through the head of hair on his shoulder. “Different stuff inspired you as a teenager. You still have talent. We just need to get you inspired, right?”

Robbie spoke after a silent moment of introspection passed. “It doesn’t work like that…” they decided. “If anything, I’ve gotten worse. I don’t think I’ve improved in the least since I stopped creating big pieces. I’d rather my art look like it was than be some new style.”

Sportacus moved his hands to brush over Robbie’s back in the most soothing gesture he could think off. “You hold yourself to high standards. You’ll get back there, Robbie. Let’s take it one day at a time.” He swayed with Robbie in his arms.

“I guess…” Robbie’s shoulders sagged. “Heh, we’re really bad with this ‘getting emotional when we should be eating’ thing.”

Sportacus laughed and scratched faster on Robbie’s back. “I guess we’re more emotionally starved then physically starved.”

Robbie chuckled, “bad joke.” 

“I’m full of ‘em,” Sportacus edged backwards towards the kitchen, step by step, Robbie slumping further into his arms.

They both laughed as Robbie let themself fall further into Sportacus’s arms. They were stretched out, almost horizontal on the floor when they finally dragged themself up to stand properly.

Sportacus held Robbie’s hand and the two went into the kitchen. Sportacus looked in the pantry and the fridge. “I definitely need to go to the grocery store tomorrow.”

Robbie peaked over Sportacus, leaning their head onto this shoulder as he examined the admittedly bare pantry.

“I can make you fancy ramen? Ramen with eggs and stuff.” Sportacus tilted his head to ask Robbie as they leaned on his shoulder.

“Sounds good,” Robbie sat down at the kitchen island and Sportacus brought two pots of water to a boil. He tossed the flavoring packets to the side and got to work on making this dish moderately health: eggs poached with the noodles, frozen broccoli and corn gave it a little color, carrots brought in from his van. Sportacus seasoned it all with Robbie's seasonings, which were more quality than their armada of canned, pickled, and frozen foods would imply. 

Finally, he put a bowl in front of Robbie and set his own bowl next to himself. After he saw the nervous face Robbie was making upon seeing their meal he suddenly remembered, “Oh, shoot! I forgot you don’t like vegetables.”

“I- yeah. That’s okay. I just don’t _usually_ like them.” They poked at a carrot again before shoving more noodles in his mouth, “I might try one.”

“You don’t have to.” Sportacus said, sounding a little embarrassed. “I can’t believe I forgot. Sorry, Robbie.” Sportacus blew on his broth and started eating.

“I suppose since you ate a bite of my cake, just one vegetable wouldn’t be that bad.” Robbie mumbled and picked up one piece of broccoli, hidden in a big bite of noodles. They shoved it into their mouth, noodles hanging out as they slowly chewed. Their face scrunched up a big before swallowing. “Not… awful…”

Sportacus smiled widely and patted Robbie’s back. “That’s my Robbie!” He said and kissed them on the cheek, “Healthiest person in Lazytown!”

“God no,” Robbie choked and laughed a little at the concept, “Don’t go spreading that around. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t believe you, invading my home, ruining my reputation. Awful.”

“I really am.” Sportacus smiled and gave them another kiss before they both focused on stuffing food in their faces. Sportacus ate the left over bits of vegetables in Robbie’s food, even though he was pretty full. He didn’t like to waste, especially not vegetables.

“Let’s go to bed,” Robbie said, leaning their head on the island as Sportacus washed their dishes. “I’m tired.”

Sportacus laughed a little, “So impatient,” He joked. He put aside the last dish and took Robbie up in his arms.

Robbie squeaked softly as Sportacus lifted them off the ground, one arm under robbie’s legs and the other supporting his back.

“I owe you one from the other night,” Sportacus explained, letting Robbie shift around in his arms a little before he started his ascent upstairs. Robbie eased into Sportacus and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, nestling close.

It felt better carrying Robbie this time around, probably because Sportacus no longer cared if they could feel his chest. Robbie already knew Sportacus was trans, so he didn’t have anything to hide. Sportacus struggled up the stairs and plopped Robbie down in the bed, giving him a quick kiss before going to the bathroom to change. Luckily, he had a couple more pads he's gotten from the van and his periods never lasted long with all the hormones he had going on. He decided to take a quick five minute rinse to get the snow shoveling sweat off him. He dried off a little, got dressed in his pjs and crawled into bed with Robbie.

Sportacus was relieved when Robbie opened their eyes, because he still wanted to ask them something, even though he found it kind of difficult. “So about groceries…’ he started. “I’m assuming you don’t want to go with me.”

“Mm no way,” Robbie’s voice was sleepy, but they responded immediately and definitely. “Nope. Not yet… sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I didn’t think you’d want to go. I just- if I can even get my van to start- I need directions I guess and a grocery list and uh-“ he gestured awkwardly under the blankets, feeling himself getting red “-money.”

“Oh! Right. Of course. I can do that,” Robbie visibly relaxed. “I’ll write up a list in the morning and put some money with it for you.”

“Okay,” Sportacus relaxed a little too, letting out a breath. 

“The store’s right in the middle of town and town is _small_ , so you won’t need any directions.”

“Okay,” Sportacus repeated, a bit more relaxed still. “Glad that’s settled. It’s been years and I still hate asking people for money.”

“You’re asking for my money to do me a favor so you really shouldn’t. Anyway, I don’t want you to feel bad over something small like that.”

Sportacus sighed, “Thank you, Robbie.”

"I'm sorry if I wake you up later..." Robbie mumbled, cuddling up to Sportacus again. "I can't really ever guarantee I'll sleep a whole night."

"It's okay." Sportacus kissed them on the temple. "I'm just glad to fall asleep with you." He enjoyed the warmth radiating from them. He snuggled closer, tucking the blanket behind him to trap the warmth inside. "Hmmmmm my Robbie,” he hummed contentedly as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took literally like four months idk why i had so much trouble with this section!! -talax


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a heard two days for me as i'm sure it's been for many of you too. Writing this rp with scrungass has given me many happy soft moments throughout my days. I think that's kinda what we're all looking for right now. Life is now, friends.

_“So do you like, live in here?”_

_Sportacus gripped the wheel a little tighter. “Yeah,” his voice was casual, “I mean, you know how rent is. And commuting from home just takes too long.”_

_Half truths, not quite lies. Sportacus has a hundred of them for moments like this._

_The drunk girl in his passenger seat leaned against the window. “That seems kinda drastic. Can’t you use student loans for rent?”_

_“I guess.”--That one was a lie--“But I don’t want to be in debt when I can just crash in my van a couple nights a week.”_

_Seven is a couple._

_“Everyone’s in debt, dude. You’d be fine.”_

_Something about how she’d said her last sentence made Sportacus worry that she was a little too drunk. “Hey, why don’t you keep working on that water?”_

_“You just don’t want me to ask you why you’re homeless,” she slurred._

_“Yeah,” Sportacus laughed a short laugh, “I think that’s accurate.” He took a glance at her and saw her struggle with removing the small water bottle cap. “Oh geez. You’re really drunk aren’t you.”_

_She leaned against the car door again, defeated by the bottle. “What makes you say that.”_

_“I mean, usually girls don’t accept rides home from dudes in big white vans.”_

_“Pssh,” he waved her hand dismissively, “You’ve been driving people home all night.” She switched positions so she was cuddling up to his arm, her long hair all over his lap. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”_

_Sportacus raised an eyebrow, “You’re right, but it’s still a bad idea.”_

_They got to her apartment soon after. She was a little too tired and drunk to walk, so Sportacus carried her inside and then up a flight of stairs to her apartment. He plugged in her phone, refilled her water, and brought her some food from her pantry._

_“Why don’t you stay?” She asked._

_“I’m gay,” he answered, feeling the specific amusement that comes from being sober around drunks._

_She laughed a little, “I figured. I meant on the couch.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Call it southern hospitality,” she drawled, pronouncing an accent Sportacus hadn’t heard over the drunk slur of words. “Because you are good. You carried me upstairs. I have a pull-out couch and a bathroom and a washing machine and four walls. Stay.”_

_Sportacus smiled a little and shook his head. “Okay. But write a note to yourself on your phone in case you forgot you invited a dude to sleep on your couch in the morning.”_

_“I’m not _that_ drunk,” she laughed, but she grabbed her phone anyway. She spent some time typing and then she put her hand on Sportacus’s head. “Thanks for being good.”_

_Sportacus nodded and left her to sleep._

_Sportacus wasn’t particularly interested in the couch, but he was interested in some of the other stuff. He closed the bedroom door behind him and went down to his van to grab some laundry. It had been about two weeks since he’d done it last; not to bad, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity._

_While his laundry spun, he looked around the stranger’s kitchen. She had some dishes that needed cleaning so he washed those and put them away the best he could figure. He wiped the mold off the crevices in the sink and scrubbed over the counter and swept the floor._

_He was getting tired. Maybe he would take her up on her couch offer. It looked pretty soft and the air conditioning was so pleasant._

_The next morning she saw him sleeping without his binder._

Sportacus didn’t want to remember anymore. He pushed the words she’d said out of his mind.

She’d lost track of her southern hospitality.

Sportacus had been awake for about and hour ruminating in old memories. Something in his dream must have sent him spiraling into memories. It was really a nasty habit, but when his mind wasn’t occupied by tasks and his body wasn’t so exhausted… he couldn’t stop his memories from bubbling up and bursting. Too many memories. Memories he didn’t want to count. Some were little like this one, some were monstrous. Too much to be alone with.

But Sportacus wasn’t alone was he?

Someone’s arms were holding him. He was in bed with Robbie. He wrapped around them tighter.

“What are you doing back awake?” Robbie asked as they pulled Sportacus just a little closer.

“I’ve been awake for a while.”

“Wow, me too. We could have been cuddling,” Robbie said rubbing Sportacus’s back.

Sportacus curled up into Robbie's arms. It was so comfortable there… He felt the fear leaving his body in waves. 

"You wanna know something that kinda scares me?" He found himself asking.

"Mmh?" Robbie had one eye closed, but kept the other trained on Sportacus's face in the dark. "What's that?"

"I really _really_ trust you," Sportacus whispered with feeling. "I trust you so much and so fast. It's stupid, but I just know you are going to be good to me."

Robbie smiled softly through the darkness of the room and ran a hand through Sportacus' hair. "I think… I really trust you too. I want to make this work, even if this is strange. If we’re a couple of strange people." They chuckled softly, brushing a thumb against Sportacus' forehead. "We might be a little crazy for falling for each other so fast...but I want this to work."

Sportacus kissed Robbie’s' lips and pressed their heads together. "Good," Sportacus said. "Glad I'm not the only crazy one." He let out a relieved little laugh and locked his hand with theirs.

"We can be crazy together," Robbie kissed the back of Sportacus' hand. "I think I like the sound of that." They closed both eyes now and sighed with content.

It wasn’t much longer that way until Sportacus fell back asleep intertwined with Robbie

\-------

Sportacus woke up as the sun peeked through the blinds and to his astonishment, he felt Robbie was still in his arms, sleeping peacefully. Sportacus was content to watch Robbie, breathing steadily as the sunrise's light glided across their face. What a beautiful, beautiful face it was--pronounced chin and brow, perfectly angled jaw, soft white skin. Sportacus thought that Robbie must be destined to be an artist looking the way they did--like an old marble statue.

Sportacus shifted a bit, just enough to wake Robbie up. They blinked slowly, open their eyes to see Sportacus looking at them so peacefully.

"Well… good morning." Robbie mumbled, smiling a little.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Sportacus smiled back and touched Robbie’s sparingly lit face. "You're still here," he stated the obvious.

"I am..." they yawned, looking a little surprised. "I think I remember waking up in the middle of the night. But I was able to go back to sleep?" They wrapped their arms around Sportacus with a sleepy smile.

Just looking at Robbie, hearing they got a good night of sleep… Sportacus felt a sudden gust of happy energy overcoming him. He lifted himself up and back down over Robbie, straddling them as he kissed their face and neck. 

“Ack! What are you doing Sportacuddle?” Robbie laughed and squirmed.

"I'm so happy!” Sportacus said between kisses. “You slept next to me all night!”

Robbie laughed, wiggling underneath Sportacus's assault of kisses. "I'm being attacked!" They giggled and captured Sportacus's mouth with their own, kissing him back and catching a little of Sportacus’s infectious energy. 

Robbie rubbed their hands through Sportacus's hair as they kissed, giggling and smiling so brightly between their clash of mouths. "I could really get used to this if this is what waking up with you is like."

"Yes, always." Sportacus laughed as he kissed them. “I'll smother you with affection." Sportacus leaned into Robbie's hands in his hair, turning his head so they would touch exactly where he wanted.

Robbie hummed in contentment, leaning up to kiss Sportacus a few more times. "Gosh, I don't want to leave bed. And it's not for my usual reasons."

"I always want to get up but not this morning... I'm only human,” Sportacus said as he cuddled into Robbie further. Sportacus rolled off Robbie for a second and then rolled back with one of Robbie's stray sketchbooks and a pen. "Here, right your list of groceries so I can keep cuddling you for a minute longer."

"Hmm...okay." Robbie cuddled up with Sportacus, took the pad of paper and pen, and began writing down a list. "I'll give you money and you can get whatever you want too."

"Sounds good." Sportacus scanned the list. Robbie's handwriting was legible but the names were unfamiliar to him. Sportacus wondered if they were regional food or if he was just that out of touch with junk food.

"I was gonna get some stuff for spaghetti tonight. Is that an okay meal for you?"

Robbie nodded, "Spaghetti sounds fantastic." They curled up against Sportacus again, wrapping an arm around his hip. "Mm… I don't want you to leave though."

"I know..." Sportacus petted Robbie's hair. "But you've had me for three days now. I think you'll be okay for two hours.”

“Two hours?” Robbie groaned, “Is that how long these things take?”

Sportacus chuckled but kept petting Robbie's hair, “two measly hours. How long was I shoveling yesterday?” 

Robbie mumbled, “well I could look at you then,” and sat up.

“Why don't you come downstairs with me?” Sportacus rolled out of bed as soon as Robbie was off his lap. “I want to clean out the fridge before I go and I don't want to throw anything away that you want to keep."

"Okayyyy." Robbie shifted to get up out of bed. They cracked their back as they stood up and the two of them headed downstairs.

Sportacus was a few steps ahead of Robbie, going right to the coffee maker to start brewing Robbie's 'coffee'. He grabbed an apple for himself and munched on it as he moved on to preparing his tea.

Sportacus felt Robbie weaseling their arms around him from behind. "Thanks for coffee, Sporty."

"You're welcome, darling." Sportacus leaned back into their arms. He loved how he fit right into Robbie’s arms, how Robbie felt like a big protective blanket around him.

Sportacus tossed his apple core into the trash and opened the fridge, taking a still attached Robbie with him. He dug through the fridge and showed things with expired dates to Robbie. Robbie had no problem throwing anything away. 

After he'd given it a good wipe, the fridge was looking very clean but alarmingly empty.

"Maybe… I'm in need of more food than I thought..." Robbie pondered. "Well? I guess… just get wherever you want, then. I don't need too many things that go in the fridge." They eventually detached themself from Sportacus, grabbing some waffles from the freezer and putting them in the toaster oven.

Sportacus missed his Robbie-armor as soon as they detached from him. But he did want to get groceries. Making real healthy food for Robbie would worth leaving them for a little while. He went upstairs to get dressed, feeling a little silly as he realized that he had gotten so attached to Robbie so quickly that doing one little thing without them made his heart hurt just a little.

He went back downstairs and kissed Robbie goodbye before setting out into the snow.

\------

Luckily, his van started, and all he had to do was chip away at a little more snow in front of the vehicle to get himself free. He set off into the direction of town and tried to take in all the sights, despite the blanket of snow obscuring form.

The town was just as Robbie said it would be--very small. Little shops lined the streets, most had string lights strung through bushes, signs, across store fronts, blinking idly under the snow. Sportacus thought that many of the stores were local and family-run; some of the businesses even seemed to hold homes on their upper levels. The town had a peaceful sleepiness to it and Sportacus began to understand why it had been named _Lazytown_.

The grocery store was a simple find, a larger, square-ish building that seemed mildly busy at this time of day.

Sportacus parked and headed into the store. He took his time going up and down the aisles, planning meals and snacks, trying to identify the mystery brand names Robbie had given him. Eventually his cart was pretty full but he kept wandering the aisles in confusion.

He noticed a small blonde boy peeking his head down the aisle. The boy had been watching him for a couple aisles, but was only now making direct eye contact. "Hello?" Sportacus asked. "Do you need help?"

The boy jumped a little when Sportacus addressed him and hid behind the aisle again. Very slowly, however, he peeked his head back out, sucking nervously on a lollipop. "H-hi..." he fidgeted, not having expected to actually talk to the man.

"Did you lose your parents in here?" Sportacus asked, instinctively getting down to the little boys level.

"Um...." the boy looked around, then looked back to Sportacus, nodding a little. "Yeah I did… and… you looked nice so...." he held his lollipop close, "Mom said not to talk to strangers, but I need help..."

The little boys face was nearly eclipsed by his lollipop. Sportacus had to keep from smiling too big at how cute he was. "Your mom gave you good advice but lucky for you, I am nice. My name is Sportacus. What is yours?"

"Ziggy!" The little boy said his name with pride, before falling back to nervousness. "I wanted to look at the candy aisle but I got too excited and I think I lost my parents then..."

Sportacus stood back up. "Let's go to the front of the store, little hero." Sportacus said in reference to the little boy’s short cape flaring out behind him.

"O-okay!" Ziggy gratefully followed Sportacus up to the front of the store, looking around. 

Two similarly blonde adults were talking worriedly with an employee at the front of the store. Almost immediately, Ziggy ran up to them. "Mom! Dad!"

"Oh! Ziggy, you had us worried!" The mother picked her son up and hugged him.

"Sportacus brought me back! He's a nice stranger." Ziggy pointed to Sportacus, who was trying to slink away quietly.

“Sportacus?” Ziggy’s father questioned.

"Y-yes, hello." Sportacus felt suddenly awkward in the presence of _real_ adults.

"Oh! Well thank you!" Ziggy's mom smiled cheerfully.

His dad nodded at the younger man."Yes, thank you. We got really worried there for a second. He's only five." He ruffled his son's hair.

"Five years old!" Sportacus looked to Ziggy, "Wow, I've never met a five year old superhero before. You know any cool superhero moves?"

Ziggy got a big smile and Sportacus smiled back to him. Talking to kids was so much easier than talking to parents.

"Thank you, again, for helping him find us," the mother said, setting Ziggy back down on the floor to stand. "Are you new here? I haven't seen you around before."

"Yeah, I am.” Sportacus reluctantly looked back at Ziggy’s mother. “I'm a friend of Robbie Rotten's. I'm going to be staying with Robbie for a while actually, so we'll probably be seeing each other."

"Robbie Rotten?" Ziggy's father looked surprised. "That man hasn't come out of his home in years. I thought he'd died!" 

"Sigmund!" His wife smacked his stomach in exasperation. "Sorry, Sportacus. This town is so small that everyone knows everyone… little Ziggy got to meet Robbie once before he shut himself in. How is he?"

"Is that right?" Sportacus looked at Ziggy, who looked utterly confused. Sportacus wasn't sure how to answer either. How honest was too honest? "Well, he's definitely alive. I've only been here a couple days but we're making progress. Maybe you'll even see him around town sometime soon."

"Is that so?" Ziggy's mom sounded pleasantly surprised. "He was quite a lovely man. I'd love to see him again. He used to love eating my cookies, you know! Once he started shutting himself in, I would deliver cookies to his house myself. But… after a while,” she looked down forlornly, “ he stopped answering when I came." 

"I'm sorry" Sportacus said, feeling oddly responsible for Robbie's perceived rudeness to this sweet woman. She wasn't mad, or didn't seem to be--she was just concerned. This really was a good town. “That was very kind of you. He really loves sweets, I'll bet he was a loyal customer... I could take him some--if you ever wanted to try again."

"Oh!" She immediately perked up, "That would be lovely! Oh...would you like to follow us home after you finished shopping? I have a batch of cookies I made just last night that I'd love to have you deliver!"

Sportacus looked at Ziggy's father--Sigmund--who was smiling in agreement. "Really? That would be very kind. I'm just trying to find the last few things on this list..." Sportacus reached for the shopping list from his pocket. "I haven't heard of some of this stuff--oh" he said as he accidentally dropped it on the ground.

Ziggy went for the list and held it up to his face. "I can read!" He announced as he scanned the list. "Double cocoa choco crunch." He read and handed it back to Sportacus. "That’s my favorite cereal too."

Sportacus looked at the list himself. "Cereal? I’d have never guessed. Thank you, Ziggy." Sportacus sped off to the cereal aisle and grabbed the box. Gee, they sure had opposite tastes. Sportacus paid for all the food and still had some money left over. That was good. He could pay Ziggy's family.

The Zweets family happily led Sportacus to their home, his old clunky van trailing behind their newer blue minivan. It had a decal on the side that read "Zweets Sweets," and that, combined with the little storefront of their home, made it obvious the family ran their own bakery. 

"Come on in! The shop is closed today, as you can see," the mother opened the door with her keys and stepped inside, her family trailing behind her. She went to the back where it looked like she was keeping a precious batch of cookies warm, which she put together in a baby blue box to hand off to Sportacus. "Please tell him we said hello. And that we hope to see him soon."

"I definitely will!" Sportacus smiled and balanced the box in his arm. It was such a cute little shop. He couldn't eat anything there himself, but the atmosphere was so cozy it made him want to stay a while. He took out his little envelope of grocery money. "How much do I owe you? Does 20 cover it?" Sportacus asked.

"You don't owe us a dime, dear!" She waved her hands, "You can pay me by getting that silly young man to show his face around town again. That's all I ask for."

Ah, gosh. That was so sweet but it was going to scare the tar out of Robbie. But Sportacus hard learned to never deny a gift. "Thank you, Mrs. Zweets. I hope that day is sooner than later. It was good to meet you all!" Sportacus made his way out of the shop and headed home.

Wow, home. He was going _home_.


	9. Chapter 9

As Sportacus drove back home with his van full of groceries, his mind wandered. He wondered about the Zweets—how such a nice woman had somehow scared Robbie away. He wondered how they knew each other in the first place. With Robbie’s sweet tooth, they no doubt must have frequented the bakery. That would be cute, young Robbie in that cute little shop, picking out which cookies they wanted and paying with their allowance…

Sportacus could picture the scene, but he couldn’t fathom it as possible. It was hard to fathom Robbie doing much of anything in the outside world, but they’d had a whole life before Sportacus. The Zweets had made it clear that Robbie—and their disappearance—was well known in Lazytown. Who else had Robbie shut out? And why? Had that sweet family hurt Robbie? Sportacus didn’t know how to ask, or if he even should.

Sportacus pulled into the driveway and tried to push this curiosity out of his mind. He grabbed all the groceries in one go (more out of stubbornness then practicality).

“I’m home!” Sportacus called, knocking with his fist full of grocery bag handles.

He heard a muffled, “Coming!” through the walls, and some shuffling and clicking before Robbie opened the door.

"Hi, darling," he said kissing Robbie in greeting. "Did you miss me?"

Robbie blushed at the endearment, “I did, of course. But bring those groceries in. My arms are sore just looking at you.”

Sportacus chuckled as he brought the groceries to the kitchen and set them on the counter.

"Did you get to see the town?" Robbie asked, relocking their excessive set of locks.

"Yep,” Sportacus nodded as he started rearranging his bags. “Everything you said was true. It's so small and quaint. I actually talked to the—the bakers?—with-" he searched for a name. "Their son was named Ziggy."

"You… you talked to the Zweets?"

Sportacus looked over to see Robbie stopped in their tracks on the way back to the kitchen. Their eyes widened before they looked down at the floor. Robbie stayed quiet for a moment as they played with the drawstring of their pajamas.

"How… how are they? How old is Ziggy now?"

"Five." Sportacus said. "He's zipping around and getting lost in grocery stores. Such a cute kid." Sportacus moved forward and took Robbie’s hand softly, bringing them to sit down in the family room.

“Five…” Robbie mumbled as they sat in their favorite chair.

"She seemed to understand, but she misses you a lot.” Sportacus fetched the box of cookies from the counter and laid them in Robbie's lap. “They were just glad to know you were alive, I think."

Robbie stared at the box blankly for a long minute, before tears began welling in their eyes. They held the box close as if it were something precious.

"She was always just a sweet woman… shit." They sniffed and rubbed at their eyes, trying to stop tears that were determined to surface.

“It’s okay,” Sportacus said, although his words felt futile. He opted to try to physically ground Robbie a little, getting down on his knee next to Robbie's chair and holding their arm firmly as Robbie surrendered to their tears.

He could really feel for Robbie. Of course, losing those connections was terrifying, but having to face those broken bonds again—the prospect of interacting with the people Robbie had withdrawn from, finding out what's been going on with their lives… That was downright mortifying.

"I'm sorry. I know.” Sportacus said as Robbie cried. “They took me to the shop even though it was closed for the day. It was really cute and even _I_ thought it smelled amazing.”

Robbie laughed a little at that, a twisted little laugh that was strewn with other emotions.

“She said she hoped she would see you in town,” Sportacus added as gently as he could manage.

"I-I don't think… I don’t know…” Robbie cried and leaned into Sportacus, clutching to the box of cookies. “I can’t do it.”

"You don’t have to do it right away, Robbie. I don’t expect that.”

“I don't know when I'll be ready to face anyone again," They said weakly.

“It can be a goal for later. We'll figure out a way to do it slowly.” Sportacus tried to reassure them, petting their arm.

"I feel like I've been letting people down… I mean, of course I have." They whimpered softly, looking down at the box. Slowly, Robbie opened the box. They took one of the cookies out, turning it over in their hands.

"M&M chocolate chip. My favorite, of course." They shook their head and spoke bitterly, "I don't deserve these."

Sportacus rubbed their shoulder, still kneeling beside them. "I know a lot about getting more than you feel like you deserve," Sportacus said gently. "Mrs. Zweets gave you these because she wants you to have them. Just like you are doing all this,” Sportacus waved his hands behind him in the direction of anything else in the house, “because you want me to be here."

"You DO deserve it though!" Robbie protested, but then settled back, “Oh, and that’s how Mrs. Zweets feels about me.”

Sportacus smiled, giving Robbie a firm pat on the shoulder. "That's right!"

With a sigh, Robbie slumped back in the couch, staring at the cookie in their hand. "Alright, You’ve got me there."

Sportacus sensed that Robbie needed some space to experience the cookies properly. He stood back up and gave Robbie a kiss on the cheek, catching some salty tears.

"I’ll let you enjoy your cookies." Sportacus said, “I've got frozen food melting on the counter anyway.”

Robbie laughed a little and nodded their blessing before Sportacus gave them one more kiss and went back to save Robbie’s ice cream from melting.

Sportacus took a peak as he started putting things away and saw Robbie finally crack a little smile before they bite into the cookie. Sportacus smiled at that too before going back to what he was doing.

Just as Sportacus was finishing up his groceries, Robbie came from the family room and pulled Sportacus into a tight hug.

Sportacus squeezed Robbie back, "Her cookies are that good huh?"

"The cookies were fantastic, as always." They sighed and loosened their arms around Sportacus, "I don't know… maybe someday I'll finally leave this house and I can help her bake again… that was always fun."

"You used to bake together?" Sportacus imagined Robbie laughing and baking with someone besides himself. “Did you _work_ for her?”

“No, I just frequented. The baking was just for fun.” Robbie covered their mouth as they laughed a little, “She tried to pay me sometimes but the only payment I wanted was sweets.”

Sportacus smiled, feeling a bit of residual warmth from the memory. “That sounds really nice.”

"It was… I do miss it…” Robbie leaned their head on top of Sportacus's mop of hair, "I used to be a different person, Sporty… I wish I could be like that again."

Sportacus leaned into Robbie. "Me too… I like you now, but I can see that other person—the one you miss—inside of you. I want to know them too."

"I want you to be able to know them…" Robbie pulled back a little, smiling softly. “Thank you for bringing me these. And getting groceries.”

Sportacus nodded and leaned up to kiss their cheek. “You’re welcome, Robbie. I’m glad to do things for you.”

"I know but… You did a lot for me…” Robbie shifted from foot to foot. “Is there… anything you want to do?”

"Well," Sportacus thought. "If you're offering… We could clean your old room… I mean I would do the cleaning but there might be some old stuff to throw away." Sportacus paused, seeing Robbie’s blank stare. "Oh- wait- did you mean something _fun_?"

"Oh! Well… yeah. You don’t consider that fun, do you?” Robbie scratched their cheek in puzzlement.

“Honestly, I kinda do.” Sportacus admitted. “But that's not fun for you.” Sportacus leaned on the counter in thought. "We have very different ideas of fun."

"Yeah." Robbie nodded in agreement. "I suppose I wouldn't be opposed to cleaning my room? It might be cathartic to get rid of some old stuff."

Sportacus smiled a little, “Okay, cleaning it is!”

\-----

It's not that Robbie's room was that messy, it was just… Full… Stuffed to the brim with mostly clothing. But since Robbie didn’t use it as often, it was spared of most of the artistic clutter in the rest of the house.

"My only spatial request,” Sportacus said as the two of them stood in the center to assess the situation, “is that I get two or three drawers for clothes. Maybe some space in the back of the closet for my old boxes. And ideally enough floor space to stretch before bed, but that seems doable."

"That's fine with me. I probably don't need a lot of this stuff." they rubbed the back of their neck, "Jeez… Where do we begin?" They looked around the room, deciding to go for the dresser first.

"Dresser is always a good call. The way I learned it, you’re supposed to take everything out all at once and then you make a pile to put back and a pile to donate." Sportacus said, leaning on the drawer.  
“Well, okay.” Robbie started pulling out clothing and other various items from their dresser drawers. There were some little trinquets in the top drawer, among underwear and socks. Bent photographs, plastic necklaces, sunglasses that read _‘Second Annual City Gallery Hop’_ along the side.

The drawers after that were full of expensive-looking clothes, pressed and clean but looking as if they hadn’t been worn in months—maybe years.

Robbie stared at all that had been in the drawers, before putting everything into one pile. Even the rather sentimental looking ‘gallery hop’ memorabilia. "This can all be donated."

"All of it?” Sportacus looked at the sizable pile. “I mean. I don't want argue with you, but you really don't like any of this clothing?"

"I haven't worn any of this in years, if I'm honest. I guess I could take the underwear and socks…" they moved awkwardly to grab the undergarments. "But a lot of the clothes wouldn't fit anyway."

"I'm all for out with the old and in with the new… Just… if any of this makes you really happy you might want to keep it and hope it fits again someday?" Sportacus felt totally unlike himself advocating for keeping non-essential items, but Robbie was really trying to get rid of _everything_.

"Like this one,” Sportacus held up one shirt, purple and silky when he ran his hand through it. “It's so soft and pretty."

Sportacus noticed as Robbie ran a hand down their side, taking account of the curves in their form. "I think I’d rather buy clothes that fit me now. I'm sure there are other people who actually need these."

 

Sportacus put the fabric back in the pile. “That’s fine by me but I’m wondering about these,” Sportacus ran his hands through the pile, taking out some of the knick knacks, “they don’t seem like they should be donated…”

Robbie looked at them and then looked away, “I guess we can through them in the trash then.”

“The trash?” Sportacus asked.

“Yes,” Robbie said, “That stuff wasn’t important when I got it. And now it just makes me feel… bad.”

"Okay, Robbie. You've convinced me. Sorry for pushing." Sportacus gathered up the non-clothing items and set them in a separate pile. He wrapped his arms around Robbie and held them almost possessively.

Robbie stiffened for just a moment, before relaxing into Sportacus's arms. Sportacus ran his hands down Robbie's back and holding them close with a hand spread on their lower back.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Robbie said as they squeezed back.

"I know you’re not ready," Sportacus mumbled. “But I think a shopping date with you would be really fun."

“I really do need new clothing sometime. And I don’t know what sizes to buy online anymore.”

“Yeah it would be fun to try on to see you try on a bunch of new clothes.” Sportacus thought wistfully, then added a bit mischievously, "Maybe I just want to go with you in the changing room and make out."

Blush quickly creeped up Robbie's neck into their cheeks, leaving them in a sputtering mess. "I-I mean. You. You can make out with me right now, you know."

Sportacus leaned back. "Oh really?" He ran a finger down Robbie's chest. "We're kind of in the middle of something aren't we?"

"I've been putting off cleaning this room for years. What's another hour or so compared to that?" They giggled a little, letting their nerves drift away as they leaned in close.

Sportacus felt suddenly intimidated when he realized Robbie was on the same page. They’d kissed countless times in the last couple days, but… This was _different_. Shyly, he leaned in to kiss Robbie.

Robbie nervously, yet eagerly met Sportacus’s lips, kissing him back. They ran their hands over his shoulders and down his arms.

Sportacus felt himself melting into Robbie's arms a little. He just couldn't stay nervous about kissing Robbie. It felt so good and natural. Sportacus dared to deepen the kiss, a little deeper than he'd gone before.

Robbie cupped Sportacus's cheek, kisses full of yearning. 

"Sportacus. I-I… god," Robbie breathed out between kisses.

“I think I love you."

"I love you too," Sportacus replied immediately between kisses, as if it was surest thing in the world—and at the moment it really was. "I know I do."

“My Sportacus. I love you.” Robbie laughed and gave Sportacus little kisses around his neck and face, "I love you; I love you."

"Oh, I love you-" Sportacus felt so full of energy he didn't know what to do—that certainly happened a lot when he was with Robbie. He squeezed Robbie and lifted them off their feet. He put Robbie down only to pick them back up bridal style and squeeze them a bit harder than he should. "I love you so much!"

Robbie giggled and sputtered, wrapping their arms around Sportacus’s shoulders. "You show-off," they laughed and kissed their boyfriend again.

"I'm not showing off! I just love you!" Suddenly, but not roughly, Sportacus laid Robbie back on the bed. Amidst all Robbie’s old clothes, Sportacus was on top of them, all around them.

Robbie’s voice was caught in their throat as they stared up at Sportacus in wonder. They swallowed, "Well… I-I think we finally found something fun we can do together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends! This fic is still on-going but I won't be updating until at least December. I'm in my first creative writing course and I'm learning a lot! But I have to do a lot of writing for it so I have to put my two fic on the back burner for now. There are still a lot of stories to tell in this work, so good things to come in 2019! 
> 
> \- your friend Talax :^)


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